Innuai
by Anne Murdoch
Summary: A crossover between "The Sentinel" and "Poltergeist: the Legacy". The backgrounds of both series have been worked into the story, so if you haven't seen both shows, you should still be able to read it without being lost.
1. I

Thanks to my great beta readers: Merry (who named this story), Tanya and Lucy; and to Kris K. for advice on characterization for the Poltergeist: The Legacy characters. Martha for inspiration.

This was originally written in 1998, but I'm currently working on the sequel.

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**I.**

To an outside observer, Derek Rayne looked like the typical business executive, seated in his expensive office, the morning sun illuminating a view of the San Francisco Bay in the window behind him. A distinguished looking man, younger than the grey in his hair suggested, with a strong intelligent face, he looked at home behind the expansive desk. He was intently studying financial reports, a mundane necessity that took time away from the true purpose of the Legacy. Regardless of the number of demons threatening the world of light, someone still had to pay the electric bill.

Still, Derek supposed there was comfort to be found in such things, and he'd probably wish he was arguing with the plumber the next time some spawn of Satan was menacing him.

Derek looked up from his papers as the phone rang. It seemed to be a morning for interruptions. First Kat wanted to show him her school project, then Rachel needed some advice on how to handle a case she was working on. It wasn't with a little frustration that he answered, "Hello?"

"Hello, is this the Luna Foundation?"

"Yes it is. May I ask who's calling?"

"Blair Sandburg. May I speak with Derek Rayne?" A young voice, struggling to subvert its eagerness with a professional tone.

"I'm Derek Rayne."

"Great! Dr. Rayne, I'm a teaching fellow at the Rainier University Anthropology Department. One of my professors, John White, suggested that I call you."

"I know Professor White. What can I help you with, Mr. Sandburg?"

"The professor thought that you might allow me to see some of your books and manuscripts. My research is based on the work of Sir Richard Burton, specifically sentinels in pre-civilized cultures. He was certain that he'd seen mention of them in one of your texts on mysticism and ancient tribal rites."

The young man spoke in a fast, steady stream, barely taking a breath between words. Derek could almost feel the energy pouring through the phone.

"That could well be, but we don't allow any of our rare books to leave the premises. They're far too valuable."

Mr. Sandburg's voice slowed and became more careful. To Derek, it sounded as if he was putting some effort into not sounding like a teenager who'd just been told he can't have the keys to the car.

"I understand completely, sir."

The disappointment only lasted a second. His voice resumed it's breakneck speed, and Derek received a very clear impression that nothing ever kept Blair Sandburg down for long. "Is there any way I could come down and spend an hour or two some day to research this? I don't want to impose, but any documentation on sentinels is rare, and it would be so important to my work if I could find something there."

"May I have your phone number, Mr. Sandburg? I'd like to discuss this with my colleagues." Derek took down the young man's office and cell phone numbers and promised to call back later.

It was an interesting call, but why would John White give the Foundation's number to a grad student without consulting him first? Derek flipped through his rolodex and dialed the phone.

The professor had an interesting tale to tell. According to White, the young anthropologist had found a living, breathing thesis subject in the form of a Detective James Ellison of the Cascade Police Department. Although Mr. Sandburg refused to admit this to the professor, White had little doubt. The conviction rate on crimes assigned to the detective had reached nearly 100% since Sandburg had been working with him. White believed that he was helping the detective control his sentinel abilities.

"What exactly are these abilities?"

"Oh, pardon me. I'm assuming you know what I'm talking about. A sentinel, according to Mr. Sandburg, is someone with extraordinarily enhanced senses. For example, the ability to see a pencil on a fifth story window ledge from two blocks away. Or, as Blair so charmingly puts it, the ability to hear a mouse fart from a hundred paces. Only a true sentinel would have all five senses magnified to this degree."

"And you believe you saw something regarding this phenomenon in the Foundation library?"

"Almost certain. Blair's work is groundbreaking in many ways. I was sure you wouldn't have a problem letting him do a little research. And, of course, any kudos or fame he receives after he publishes can only reflect well on the university."

Ah, so there it was. John White had always put his love of the university above all else, and he was helping this young man not out of any respect for his research, but for what his research might do for Rainier. "You believe he's serious about what he's doing? He sounded young."

"He's a brilliant boy, totally devoted to his subject. I wish I had half the energy in my old bones that he does."

"Very well. I'll see what I can do to help him."

As much as Derek disliked having strangers in the house, the idea of having a fellow anthropologist to talk to, especially one who seemed to have made a fascinating discovery, was appealing to him. He would invite Philip to help the anthropologist with his research. It would do the young priest some good, he thought, to help an academic who was not in the throes of demonic possession.

Derek chose to announce the news while everyone was gathered for lunch.

"We'll be having a visitor to the Luna Foundation this weekend. He'll be doing some anthropology research. Philip will be coming to help him in the library. I think the rest of us can be trusted to keep a low profile since there's nothing pressing going on at the moment."

Nick Boyle leaned back in his chair, looking at Derek through hooded eyes. He had taken on the role of protector of late, and seemed to feel it was his duty to check out anyone who might be a threat to his friends. "A friend of yours, Derek?"

"No, I've never met him. A professor who was involved in a Legacy case several years ago recommended that he come here. The young man is a research fellow doing work on sentinels, and apparently the professor has seen something in the library relevant to his work on that subject."

"I don't like this. We don't know anything about him."

"We'll find out soon enough. Mr. Sandburg will be here in two days."

Nick started to voice another objection and Derek raised his hand. "We rely on others for vital information in our work. I believe that we're obligated to return the favor when possible."

Rachel took a sip of coffee and asked, "What exactly is a sentinel?"


	2. II and III

**II.**

"Jim!" Blair bounded through the door and tossed his jacket at the rack, completely ignoring it as it missed and dropped to the floor. "The most fantastic thing happened today."

Detective Jim Ellison had been enjoying the quiet. The afternoon sun coming through the patio doors cast a calming glow over the loft. He'd had a rough day at the station, and Blair had been absent for much of it, attending to university duties. All he had wanted when he got home was a chance to snag a cold beer and read the newspaper without interruption.

Not that he hadn't had plenty of warning that his peace would be shattered. He'd heard Blair's Volvo pull to a stop in front of the building five minutes ago. Even while reading, one part of him was listening to Blair shuffle through papers and gather his belongings, then climb the stairs two at a time, by-passing the elevator. Blair's rush to get to the loft informed Jim that his friend was excited about something. Jim had already begun to fold up his paper in resignation when Blair burst through the door. He debated on commenting about the heap of jacket on the floor, but decided that now was not the time for another lecture on the house rules.

"What's up, Chief?"

Blair, always in motion, went to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of mineral water, then came over and plopped down on the chair. He gestured as he spoke, drawing an errant length of brown curls behind his ear. "I think I've got a lead on more sentinel references! A professor of mine told me about a private foundation that has a huge library of ancient texts and manuscripts. He swears he saw sentinels mentioned in at least one of them. The place is called the Luna Foundation. I phoned them up today and they said I could come out for the weekend to use their library."

"That's an odd name. What do they do?"

"Professor White said it's a philanthropic organization."

"Sounds harmless enough." Though with Blair involved, Jim thought, it was hard to tell.

"Ever heard of the Winston Rayne Hall of Antiquities?"

Jim shook his head.

"The man who runs the Foundation, Derek Rayne, created it." A wide grin appeared on the anthropologist's face. "This is so completely awesome, man. The books in this library are really old. If I can find something that predates Burton..." Blair grinned and jumped up, pacing back and forth. "Oh, man, I can barely stand it. Waiting two days to go out there is going to drive me nuts."

Blair's smile was contagious. "You won't have far to go."

The barb had absolutely no effect on his friend. He was beyond hyper today. Jim listened, trying to understand as Blair explained the implications of his search. It took a while before the other implication sank in. "So, you're going to be gone this weekend?"

"Oh, yeah. Leaving Friday afternoon and I'll be back Monday night. Only morning classes Friday, so I'm cool. I got a good deal on plane tickets." Blair looked at Jim a moment and then slapped his forehead. "The Jags game! I'm sorry, man. I totally forgot."

"No problem. I'm sure one of the guys at the station will be more than happy to take your place."

Jim's smile faltered. He hadn't intended to cause the pained look that crossed Blair's face. The innocent comment apparently struck a deep fear in Blair that had little to do with doubts about the strength of their friendship and everything to do with doubts about the permanency of their partnership. He had a very reasonable concern that some day Jim would be in control enough that he wouldn't need Blair to help him with his senses anymore.

Blair had once told him that he feared the end of their partnership because he couldn't imagine going back to the safe and dull world of academia after what he'd experienced working with Jim. At the time, Jim had thought Blair was referring to the excitement and adrenaline rushes he had experienced, but once he'd had a chance to consider it, he'd realized it was deeper than that.

Police work was a dangerous job, but combined with the unpredictability of Jim's senses, it created an interdependence between Jim and Blair that was far beyond that of normal partners. It had created a bond of trust and respect that was as strong as iron and a friendship as intense as any he'd ever experienced. Jim didn't blame Blair for being afraid of losing that intensity, but he didn't share that fear. He knew that no matter what happened in the future, they'd find a way to keep their partnership, and their friendship, intact.

The cloud passed over Blair's face so quickly that only Jim would have noticed it. Blair shifted gears into what Jim thought of as 'Mother Mode'.

"You aren't going to be doing anything I should be worried about this weekend are you? I don't want you zoning out while I'm not here."

Jim smirked. "I've got a date with Mary on Saturday, but I don't think I'm going to need your help with that."

Blair raised his eyebrows. "Mary, huh? You two are getting to be something of an item."

Jim grinned enigmatically. "Time will tell."

**III.**

Alex and Rachel were waiting outside as Nick landed the helicopter. It was a beautiful, sunny day and Kat was picking flowers for their guest. Nick had tried unsuccessfully to persuade Derek not to allow a stranger to come to the house. Too many things had happened lately that had convinced him not to trust anyone but his small circle of friends. Still, there was something almost festive about the atmosphere. Someone was coming here who didn't need help for any dire threat to his life or soul, just a scholar in search of knowledge. It wouldn't even matter if he were the nerdish bookworm Alex was expecting.

When Blair Sandburg stepped out of the helicopter, Alex was shocked. Although Derek had said that he was almost Nick's age, he looked much younger. He stood about 5'7", and was wearing faded blue jeans, hiking boots, and plaid flannel over a dark T-shirt. He looked all of about 16 from this distance. With long, curly brown hair, which the sun highlighted with strands of gold, and a pair of round wire framed sunglasses, he looked like a refugee from a grunge rock band. Underlying all of it was an unexpected aura of strength. In a word, he was beautiful. She nudged Rachel. "Can we keep him?"

Rachel laughed. "You're terrible."

As they walked up to greet him, Alex noticed that the man was pale and slightly shaky.

Rachel's parental instincts kicked in. "Are you all right Mr. Sandburg?"

"Call me Blair. Uh, yeah, I'm fine." He gestured toward the sky. "I've just got this thing about heights."

"You should have told us. You can take the ferry when you go back."

Blair removed his glasses, revealing inquisitive eyes that were the most amazing shade of deep blue. "Oh, no. I'm trying to get over it, actually. Thought I was making progress until recently, but that's a really long story. I'm sure you don't want to hear it."

"We're being rude." Rachel extended her hand. "I'm Rachel Corrigan."

Blair shook her hand firmly and nodded.

"You've met Nick Boyle, of course. This is Alex Moreau."

Alex reached out, smiling brightly and froze as she touched his hand. A flood of images filled her head. Gunfire, shouts, fear and adrenaline, and the feeling of falling from a great height into deep water. "You jumped over a waterfall?"

Blair looked startled and released her grip, eyeing her suspiciously. "Yeah. Good guess."

"Were you hurt?"

As she watched Blair open his mouth to ask her how she knew, she instantly regretted revealing so much to a man she'd only just met. He must have seen it in her face, because he closed his mouth abruptly and answered her question instead.

"Not too badly."

Great, he was staring at her now. The questions would come later, after he'd had time to really work on them.

Kat chose that moment to arrive, bearing flowers, and thankfully diverting Blair's attention. She smiled sweetly at Blair and handed him the blooms. "My name's Kat. Was it scary when you got shot?"

Blair took a step back, the genuine smile on his face briefly faltering, to be replaced by one that was a little less bright, and a lot more cautious.

"So, the Luna Foundation shares space with the Psychic Hotline, right?"

Rachel shook her head. "What are you guys trying to do, scare him away? He just got here."

Alex was chagrined. She didn't know what had possessed her to reveal her vision to him. If Derek had been here he would have read her the riot act, but this guy seemed so open, she couldn't help herself. Still, she shouldn't have said anything, it was obvious she'd opened an old wound.

Blair seemed to have judged Kat a minimal threat and finally smiled again. "Yes, it was scary, but my friends were with me, so it wasn't too bad."

"I'm glad. It's not good to be alone when you're scared."

Blair shuddered visibly, and seemed less cheerful than he had been. "No, it's not."

It was then that Alex realized this man was not just a mild-mannered anthropologist. She wondered, not for the first time, if Derek knew more than he was letting on.

Everyone stood for a moment in awkward silence before Kat took the initiative and grabbed his hand. "C'mon, I'll show you your room." She began pulling him toward the house.

Alex turned to Rachel. "Well, Kat's taken to him. That's always a good sign."

Nick had caught up with them, and asked. "What's this about a waterfall?"

"It was very vivid in his mind. It must have happened recently, and of course the mention of heights brought it to the surface. Something happened to him. I couldn't make it out clearly, but it involved falling and being underwater. Someone was shooting at him, I think. The emotions were pretty intense."

Rachel shook her head. "They'd have to be. I wonder if this has anything to do with the detective he works with."

Nick snorted. "I can't imagine an anthropologist getting into trouble like that any other way, unless he's involved with the Legacy."

Alex watched Blair as he chatted amiably with Kat, who continued to hold tightly to his hand. "He's not what I expected, but I think I like him."


	3. IV and V

**IV.**

Derek was in his study when he heard the guest arrive. As he walked into the foyer, he saw Kat holding on to Mr. Sandburg's hand, a bright smile on her face. The child's instincts were almost always dead on, and he relaxed a little. Alex and Rachel were obviously taken with him, and even Nick did not seem completely hostile.

He approached the young man and held out his hand. "Welcome to the Luna Foundation, Mr. Sandburg, I'm Derek Rayne."

"Call me Blair. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Derek could feel the same energy emanating from the young man he had felt while speaking to him on the phone, magnified by his physical presence.

"This place is totally awesome. I want to thank you again for allowing me to come here."

"I'm very much interested in hearing about your work, Blair."

Blair smiled at that. "I'd love to tell you about it. It's a fascinating subject. I understand you're an anthropologist as well?"

"Primarily forensic anthropology. Right now, you're probably tired from your trip. Supper will be ready in about half an hour. Rachel and Kat can show you to your room."

When they had retreated upstairs, Alex turned to Derek. "I got some really interesting vibes from him."

"What kind?"

She explained her vision, and then said, "It was more than that, though. I got a feeling that he's special somehow. There was so much light and energy in him. I don't think he's even aware of it."

Two hours later, a light supper of braised orange roughie, hot French bread and Caesar salad finished, the Legacy members listened, fascinated, as Blair told them of the time he'd spent with native tribes in the Fiji Islands. He was a masterful storyteller. Derek was impressed with the young man's ability to weave an interesting tale, leaving out nothing important, but not allowing it to become a dry academic rant.

"You seem awfully young to be so well traveled, Mr. Sandburg."

"I started college a little earlier than most kids."

"How much earlier?"

"I started taking classes at Rainier when I was 16. Once I was old enough, I went on as many expeditions as I could. Finagling my way into them became kind of a fine art with me."

Alex shook her head. "Wow."

"It's not a big deal. I just really love anthropology."

Kat spoke up. "How did you get shot?"

Rachel looked at Kat sternly. "You shouldn't ask questions like that, Kat. It's none of our business."

Blair smiled, "Yeah, but it's going to drive her crazy until she knows what happened. You're a curious kid, aren't you Kat?"

"Yep."

"That's a good thing to be. Don't let anyone discourage you. Curiosity is my driving force." Blair proved his point by asking Rachel, "Your daughter has some kind of psychic thing going on, right? I mean, how else could she know what happened to me?"

Rachel bristled at the question and their guest cringed, realizing he'd hit a nerve. "Sorry. That's none of my business."

Nick sighed in exasperation, obviously wishing everyone would get to the point. "So what happened, anyway? You were shot and fell over a waterfall?"

"Not in that order, and I didn't fall. These totally psycho back woodsmen opened fire on Jim and me with automatic weapons and we ended up doing a Butch and Sundance over the edge of a cliff. It was _not_ a good way to get over my fear of heights."

"This happened during your work with the Cascade Police Department?" Derek asked.

Blair nodded, and told them the story. He'd been with Detective Ellison during a prisoner transfer when they had been ambushed. The prisoner got away, taking Ellison's captain with him. Blair and the detective had tracked them through the wilderness for two days, enduring rain, concussion and various types of abuse along the way. It appeared that Blair had taken the brunt of it, eventually being shot in the leg when they'd finally caught up with Captain Banks' kidnappers. Blair's expression turned to one of intense pride as he described how Ellison had taken on all three criminals with only one bullet in his gun.

"Was it scary being shot?" Kat seemed to be unsatisfied with the answer he'd given her earlier in the day.

"Yeah, a little. It was more painful than scary. Jim was there, so I knew everything would be OK. Now being airlifted out of the forest..._that_ was scary."

Nick said, "You put a lot of trust in this guy."

"With my life, man. Literally. If you ever met him, you'd know. He's not anybody to mess with. We've been in a lot of bad situations, but he's never let me down."

Derek thought that it would be interesting to meet this man, and sensed that Blair's trust in him was more than just confidence in his unusual talents. There was a deep friendship there as well.

Blair leaned back in his chair and looked at the assembled Legacy members with a light in his eyes that showed he was actually interested in them. "So what about all of you? What is it that you do here?"

**V.**

Father Philip Callaghan arrived after supper to help Blair get started in the library. He was a thin young man with short brown hair, and a slightly hunched posture, as if the weight of the world's troubles were on his shoulders. The sad eyes, down turned mouth and gentle Irish lilt added to the sense of a man with many burdens. Blair liked the kind man instantly.

"I'm sorry, but I don't recall reading anything about sentinels."

Blair sighed dejectedly and looked up at the seemingly insurmountable number of books on the shelves.

"Don't worry. We'll find something. I only now found out what a sentinel is. There's no reason I would have noticed if I'd read about them before."

Blair brightened immediately. "You're right. I think I need to concentrate on any books that deal with tribal customs and rites to start with."

"Have a seat, I'll find the most likely books for you and you concentrate on finding what you need in 'em."

"Thanks, man. That would be great."

Philip spent the next two hours digging through the massive library, discussing sentinels with the anthropologist. As he spoke to Blair, he felt a serenity fall over him that could almost have been called happiness. Too much of his life lately had been filled with pain, but just talking to Blair put things into perspective. Here was a man who derived immense joy from learning. Someone absolutely passionate about his work. It almost gave him hope for the human race.

"Why do you do this?"

"What?" Blair peered up at Philip over his wire frame glasses.

"Go to all this trouble on the off chance you'll find a paragraph about sentinels."

"Because it's important. I mean, there's so little information out there as it is..."

"Yes, but you said you could publish on what you have."

"That's not the point. Even after I publish, if I ever do, I'll spend the rest of my life looking."

"Because your friend is a sentinel?"

"How did you know that?" He waved his hands to stop Philip's answer. "Never mind, I don't want to know. I forgot everyone in this place is psychic." Blair removed his glasses and leaned back in his chair. "Yes. That's one of the big reasons. There isn't any reference manual to help someone with hyperactive senses. Jim was having a really hard time dealing with them when they first appeared. They were way out of control, and I honestly don't know what would have happened to him if I hadn't found him. I keep imagining that there are other people with enhanced senses out there with no control. What happens to them? Do they end up in rubber rooms, or lock themselves up in their homes and become hermits? Or do Jim and others like him figure it out for themselves after a while? I'll probably never know, but I think what I'm doing may help them."

"Do you think anyone will believe there are such things as sentinels?"

"Nah. I'm figuring that as soon as I publish, I'll get a feature story in the Star, right next to the article titled, 'Dead Celebrities Open Intergalactic Sperm Bank.'"

Philip choked and then burst out laughing.

Blair grinned impishly. "Sorry, Father."


	4. VI and VII

**VI.**

Alex and Nick were sitting in the living room when they heard the laughter coming from the library. Alex's face split into a grin and Nick's smile answered it. It was so good to hear their friend laugh. It had been a long time.

Using her thumb to keep her place, Alex closed the book she'd been reading. "Still think it's a bad idea to let strangers in the house?"

"Yeah, but this guy's all right."

"Cute, too."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so that's how it is."

"We _are_ a little isolated on this island. And I mean, wow. He's brainy, articulate, well traveled, has a sense of humor, likes kids, and it's all wrapped up in one great looking guy."

"Don't get too attached. He lives in Washington."

"That's not far at all."

"What if he has a girlfriend already?"

"Geez, Nick, I'm not planning our honeymoon. Give me a break. I like him."

"Just be careful. We don't know anything about him."

"I'm a big girl. I know how to take care of myself."

"Mm-hmm." Nick returned his attention to the sports section.

Alex reached slowly beside her and grasped a throw pillow. With lightning speed she threw it squarely at the center of Nick's upheld paper. Just as quickly, he reached out a hand and grabbed it out of the air, never removing his eyes from the paper as he stuffed it behind his back.

Closing one eye and scowling at him, she stuck out her tongue. Nick lowered his paper, barely containing his grin and returned the face.

Derek chose that moment to enter, of course.

"I can see that I'm going to have to separate you two."

**VII.**

Blair had been pouring through the books for hours. Philip had long since gone to bed. He'd been a difficult man to figure out. Not that he'd met many priests in his life, but hey, he'd spent a lot of time hanging out with monks. They couldn't be that different, could they? And sure, he'd learned that underneath the robes were complex men with intense emotions, just like everyone else on the planet, but he'd never associated the word angry with a holy man before. Yet, underlying Philip's calm and gentle personality, there was a palpable tension, a sort of morose fatalism, as if he were simply passing time until the next bad thing happened. Blair had a strong impression that Philip's earlier laughter had been a rare thing.

Perhaps it was the fact that he was Irish. Growing up in a country ripped by religious conflict could certainly have affected his demeanor. As an anthropologist, he longed to ask Philip about it, but his better judgment told him that the priest might not be able to look at the situation from a purely academic point of view.

Still, why had the priest seemed so on edge here, in what was supposed to be a sheltered academic setting? Just one more question to add to the growing number that Blair had been accumulating since dinner. It was more than just the apparent psychic abilities of Alex and the little girl, although that alone would have been enough to get his attention. Blair recognized obfuscation when he saw it. He was certain that the Luna Foundation was involved in something more than simple research.

Blair smiled. There was nothing he loved more than a good mystery, especially since he felt no overt threat from the people here.

Closing one book devoid of any mention of sentinels, Blair picked up another. There were so many potential sources for the passage about his subject that he feared one weekend wouldn't be enough. He wished that Professor White had remembered the name of the book he'd seen. Blair's Latin was a bit rusty and it seemed as though many of the books were in that language. He'd been surprised to find that such a large part of the library dealt with the occult and other ancient mysteries. Any of them could hold what he was looking for.

Blair's mission was made harder by the fact that he kept being distracted by the contents of the books. There was some really fascinating stuff here. Some of it was also totally creepy. He'd had to shut at least one book because of the disturbing images he'd seen there. Made some of the crime scenes he'd been to with Jim pale in comparison.

As Blair laid his head down on his arms to rest for a moment, he wondered what Jim would think if he knew what kind of place he was in...

It seemed as though Blair had just shut his eyes when he felt someone stroking his hair. He grinned inwardly, not opening them, wondering if it was Alex. He'd been attracted to her from the moment they'd met. Tall and strong, with long, curly hair framing a warm face and intelligent eyes, Alex was a beautiful woman. Even better, she had an intellect to match her beauty. He'd felt an instant spark between them. Smiling, he opened his eyes.

The woman standing above him looked oddly familiar, although Blair couldn't say where he'd seen her before. She must have been out when he'd met the other members of the Foundation. He sat up, slightly embarrassed by her attentions.

"Uh, hi. I'm Blair Sandburg."

The woman continued to pet him. Long red hair flowed around her shoulders. She was wearing an ankle length dress of a deep emerald green that matched her eyes. Her face was devoid of makeup. Nonetheless, she was beautiful.

Blair started to ask her name when she smiled and briefly put a long slender finger against her lips. It was difficult to think when she was this close. His inner voice was warning him that something was very wrong, but he ignored it. Her eyes were so beautiful...

The mysterious woman leaned forward, ruby lips pursing slightly. Blair was entranced, and closed his eyes, awaiting the kiss.

Images filled him the moment her lips touched his. Blair's mind screamed with them. Despair, death, loneliness and fear poured through him, sapping his energy and his will to live. Instinct took over and he struggled from her grasp, shoving the chair back and falling to the floor with a thump that sounded like an explosion after the unnatural silence. His legs had turned to water. The woman standing above him had changed. Her eyes were flashing with a ferocious look of hunger, like a tiger just interrupted during its meal.

She was reaching for him again, and he summoned up his last reserve of energy to scream, "No!"

The creature stood there for a moment, regarding him thoughtfully. Everything slowed and became distant, as if Blair was viewing the scene from outside himself. A pink tongue, looking almost reptilian, darted out from the woman's mouth, traveling over her red lips hungrily. She leaned forward, her fingers like claws and her eyes black as pitch.

The sound that escaped Blair's throat at that moment seemed barely human, as though it wasn't even a part of him. It was a low, warning growl. The woman leapt back at the sound of it as if she had been struck. Urgent voices on the stairs offered a glimmer of hope and the woman retreated farther.

What was left of Blair's energy departed. His eyes felt heavy and he closed them for a moment, listening to the sound of hurrying footsteps and concerned voices. When he opened them, the woman was gone. Blair struggled to move, but his limbs wouldn't respond.

Blair tried to call out for help, but he couldn't make his voice work. The despair that had flowed through him moments before returned, filling every part of his soul until there was no room left for any other emotions. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a small ball and give himself up to oblivion.


	5. VIII

**VIII.**

The man stood a short distance away, standing on the improbably green front lawn. Behind him, sailboats with brightly colored spinnakers passed so slowly they were almost immobile, and yet there was a warm breeze. Alex knew because she could feel it stirring her own hair, and she could see his moving too. The sun shown down on him, causing a halo effect. He looked like so many things at this moment. Wise and child-like, brave and vulnerable, joyous and sad. More than anything else, though, he looked alone. She knew he had made a discovery--an important one--and he had no one to share it with. Alex's own life revolved around putting obscure puzzle pieces together. Making sense out of the senseless. She understood his loneliness, and moved to meet him.

As she walked, the landscape changed. The trees grew huge and leafy, rising to block the sun. Air once warm and dry became steamy and suffocating. Green grass gave way to dirt, ferns, and rotting logs covered with moss. Noises invaded: the caw of exotic birds; the buzz of huge insects; the screams of primates. Perfumes of the jungle invaded her nose; the sweetness of flowers and death. It was chaotic and it made her dizzy.

Blair still stood there, smiling. This place did not frighten him, and because he was at ease, so was Alex. He held out his hand and said, "He comes from here. This place is what made him. Can you feel how old it is?"

"Yes."

She could. The trees were ancient; had been standing since the dawn of man. Everything about this place seemed far older than the oldest things she'd seen. The Coliseum in Athens; the Catacombs in Italy; the Pyramids of Egypt; all were infants compared to this tangled jungle. And yet, it was new, too. In motion; green and growing; filled with life.

Blair took Alex's hand and led her to a small clearing where the ruins of an ancient temple could be seen. "This is where he made his choice."

"What choice?"

Blair's voice caught as he looked at Alex with eyes that suddenly seemed ancient. "I haven't been asked to make one."

She could feel the sadness flowing from him. He felt alone and lost, as if he were unsure of his place here.

His uncertainty made him vulnerable.

Alex opened her mouth to warn him, but no sound came out. The jungle darkened and vines rose, malevolent and evil, from the ground, binding her to the spot. Immobile, she could only watch helplessly as the scenery changed again. The temple became whole, and there were no longer vines wrapped around her wrists, but large hands belonging to towering guards. Two guards approached the young anthropologist and lay him down on a stone table. One man held his wrists and the other his ankles. He did not struggle, but instead stared transfixed at a figure moving slowly through the door, illuminated only by faint torch light. Her hair was the color of blood, and it hung to the floor, covering her bare body. Her eyes flashed green, almost glowing in the firelight. In her hand was a curved stone, sharpened to a fine edge. She walked over to him, and bent down to kiss him.

"You wish to make a choice, boy? I will give you one. Come with me and you will always know your place. Stay with your sentinel and you will never be sure."

"Jim needs me."

"That is your delusion, not his. You are not his true guide, as you have suspected all along. You hold the sentinel back, prevent him from finding the one who should be leading him."

"You're a liar!"

"Think about it, little one. When you are with the sentinel, do you follow and obey him, or do you lead him?"

Blair was tongue-tied for a moment, and the woman tore his shirt open with her claw like fingernails, drawing blood as she did. She held the sharp stone over his heart. "No answer?"

"Both! I do both. I guide him when he is a hunter, but I follow when he is a protector."

"Come with me and you will always know your place," the woman repeated.

The young man's eyes flashed with anger. "And where is that? Will I be trapped with you always knowing that my place is with Jim?"

There was truth in the statement. Alex felt the woman's rage even as she shrieked and raised her implement, bringing it down with ferocious strength against the already blood matted curls on Blair's chest. He screamed in agony as the woman pulled out his still beating heart, opened her mouth wider than was humanly possible, and swallowed it whole.

Alex screamed and sat up, drenched in sweat. Barely pausing to compose herself, she stumbled out of bed and snagged her robe. As she had screamed, she had heard an echo of it. A real scream, not one from her nightmare. She yanked open the bedroom door and almost ran into Derek and Nick. Rachel and Philip appeared soon after.

"What was that?" Rachel asked, shivering.

Derek put an arm around Alex's shoulders, noticing her distress. "Are you all right? I heard you scream."

"I had a nightmare. It's Blair. Something attacked him in the library."

Derek and Nick took the lead, the others following close behind. Nick had his gun, and entered the library cautiously, only to emerge a moment later.

"Stay with Derek, I'm going to check out the rest of the house."

The first thing Alex thought, when she saw the still form of Blair Sandburg on the floor, was that he was dead. His skin was pale, his eyes open and dull looking, and he was completely motionless. He didn't appear to be breathing. Her heart wrenched at the sight.

_No way. He is _not _dead._

Then Derek spoke to him and Alex released the breath she'd been holding.

"Mr. Sandburg, can you hear me?"

Rachel rushed over and knelt next to him, checking his pulse. "It's steady, but a little slow. Skin is cold and clammy. Bluish pallor. He appears to be in shock. We should get him to a hospital, he may be having a heart attack."

Derek looked up at Alex, his tone urgent. "What did you see?"

"A woman with red hair eating his heart."

Derek nodded, as if he had had the dream as well.

Blair shuddered once, and then his whole body began to quake. He blinked and gasped, "Help me, please," then closed his eyes.

Rachel checked him again. "His heart rate is back to normal, and I swear his temperature is returning to normal as well. I can almost feel him warming up. He may have some kind of medical problem that we don't know about. Maybe epilepsy, but the symptoms aren't right."

The shaking stopped, and Blair began to relax. Slowly, he opened his eyes. The dullness had disappeared, replaced instead with confusion. "What happened?"

Rachel tucked her blonde hair behind her ears, and put a hand on Blair's arm. "You had some sort of seizure, Mr. Sandburg. Have you ever had one before?"

"Seizure? No, never." Blair struggled to sit. As Philip and Derek helped him to his feet, his knees gave way. "Oh, man. I don't feel so hot."

"Let's get him upstairs."

Over Rachel's objections, the two men half walked, half carried him to his room.

When Blair was in bed, propped up with pillows, Derek said, "Tell us exactly what you remember."

"I was reading in the library and I fell asleep. I woke up when I felt someone playing with my hair. I saw a woman; someone I didn't meet earlier. I don't know what her name was, but she was a redhead..." Blair paused, obviously waiting for someone to offer a name.

"No one here has red hair, Mr. Sandburg. What did she look like?"

Admiration filled his voice. "Green eyes, her hair was about waist length and straight. Pale complexion. A little shorter than I am. Full lips. She was wearing a long green dress. Beautiful."

"What did she say to you?"

"Nothing. I introduced myself and she just leaned in and kissed me. That's the last thing I remember." A cloud passed over Blair's face and he ran a hand nervously through his hair.

Alex sat on the bed next to him and patted his leg. "What do you remember? It's important that you tell us, even if you think it's nothing."

"It was just a dream."

Alex understood Blair's urge to explain it away. As open-minded as he seemed, she doubted he'd ever come face to face with this kind of evil before.

"Humor us, please?" Derek's tone implied a command rather than a question.

"I remember this horrible feeling of hopelessness. I literally wanted to die. That is _so_ not like me. It was like I was suddenly filled with everything evil that had ever happened in the world, and all the light was pushed away." Blair moved restlessly in the bed, nervously twisting the blanket and squeezing his eyes tightly shut. His breath came in short gasps. "It wants to come back. Don't let it, please!" The anthropologist wound both arms around himself and began rocking back and forth, trying to stave off panic.

Leaning over, Alex wrapped her arms around him. "Hush. Everything's going to be all right. You're safe now." She stroked his back, trying to calm the shudders traveling through his body.

As she felt her body echo the shakes, Alex found herself unable to distance herself from this man. When she looked at Blair, she saw something of herself mirrored in his face. When she had first met him she had felt a connection, and it had only been strengthened by the dream. They were kindred spirits. If this creature, whatever it was, destroyed him, she knew it would become much harder to continue on in her work.

_This must be what Philip feels like. This must be why he runs so much, always afraid that more innocents will die, and his soul will die with them._

Blair's shuddering stopped and he reached his arms around Alex and squeezed once, tightly before leaning back against the pillows. His blue eyes blinked slowly, and he looked impossibly childlike. She brushed his hair back from his face, stroking his cheek gently. He grabbed her hand and Alex held it tightly, watching as he drifted into an exhausted sleep.

"What d'ya think happened to him?" Philip quietly asked Derek.

Rachel interrupted. "My guess is a severe anxiety attack. It may be a symptom of a more serious psychosis."

"No," Alex shook her head vehemently. Rachel, unlike Blair, didn't seem to have an open mind. It frustrated her at times, knowing that Rachel would always look for a 'rational' explanation for everything first, but that was part of her value to the team. Still, Alex liked Blair, and she bristled at Rachel's implications. "I don't believe that for one second. He radiated life and energy when I first met him. There was a little self doubt there, but nothing as bad as psychosis. Besides, I saw this redhead in my nightmare. She attacked Blair."

Derek nodded. "I agree with Alex. I didn't have the dream, but I definitely felt a dark presence in the library. We have to determine what it was."

Rachel, stubborn as always, chose her own path to the truth. "I'm going to phone this detective friend of his and see if there have ever been any episodes like this in his past."

They all split up then, intent on finding out what had happened to their visitor. Rachel went to make her phone calls and Derek wandered off to find Nick, looking more than a little angry that a visitor had been attacked in the house.

Alex was afraid to let go of Blair's hand and tried to assure herself that he'd be fine under Philip's watchful eye. She could help him better if she went to the library and tried to find out what books he'd been reading before the attack. The Legacy database might turn up something useful as well.

Leaning over, Alex placed a gentle kiss on Blair's forehead. "We won't let anything happen to you."

Alex left the room without looking at Philip. She new what she would see if she did, and right now she couldn't handle it. There would be no hope in his eyes, only sad sympathy.


	6. IX

**IX.**

Jim had been sleeping soundly when he got the early morning call from Dr. Corrigan. She had adeptly tiptoed around the seriousness of Blair's situation, saying only that he'd had an anxiety attack, and that Jim should come out to Angel Island as soon as possible. Jim didn't like the sound of it at all. Blair had certainly been up front about having spent a lot of time in therapy earlier in his life, but Jim had never seen any serious breakdowns in the time since they had met, and he'd always suspected that the therapy sessions Blair spoke of had more to do with his mother's belief that everyone needed to get in touch with their inner selves than any real psychological problems. It was a West Coast thing.

Blair's greatest fear was a fear of heights, and yet he was able to ride in a helicopter during a chase without any more severe reaction than an accelerated heart beat and respiration. In all the times that they'd been under severe stress he'd kept his cool and had never lost the ability to function. What could have happened to him in this mysterious place that would be severe enough that Jim needed to be called down? The doctor hadn't even let him speak to Blair, claiming that he was resting. None of it sounded good, and Jim left Simon with the location of Angel Island and the phone number for the Foundation, saying that if he didn't call in tonight, the captain should send out the cavalry.

The flight to California was uneventful. A young man was waiting for Jim at the airport to fly him out to the island. If Jim hadn't been so focused on getting to Blair and finding out what was wrong with him, he might have noticed the sun shining on the water and the blue sky above, things that were in short supply in Cascade, Washington.

Jim did, however, recognize the pilot, Nick, as ex-military. It was not just the short haircut, firm handshake, and no-nonsense greeting. There was a self-assurance in him that Jim recognized in himself. An indefinable quality to his bearing that was imparted only through extensive time spent as a soldier. Jim wondered how such a man was connected to a philanthropic institution.

"Army?" Jim asked after a long silence.

Nick eyed him suspiciously. "Navy Seals. You?"

"Rangers."

They both discussed their military experience in a purely superficial way for a while. Jim sensed that Nick was holding something back, but he didn't press. It was none of his business.

As they approached Angel Island, Jim was surprised by how large the Luna Foundation was. It looked more like a castle than a philanthropic institute. Blair had given him the impression that it was very small, with a staff of only a few people, and yet this place looked like it could have housed many more than that.

Once inside, Jim was greeted by a man not much older than himself, with greying hair and an accent that Jim took to be Dutch. Blair would probably be able to tell. He introduced himself as Derek Rayne.

"Detective Ellison, thanks for coming, although I don't think it was necessary. Mr. Sandburg seems to have recovered from last night's episode. I hope we didn't alarm you."

Experience told Jim that Rayne was not being completely truthful. "What happened?"

"That's a good question. We have several theories, but perhaps you'd like to ask Mr. Sandburg? He's in the library."

Jim knew the moment he saw the library that it would be heaven for Blair. The room was two stories high, with a small spiral staircase that lead to a walkway around the second story shelves. The room was filled with hundreds of books. He inhaled deeply. With enough practice, he could probably learn to tell the age of each one by the smell. Jim's senses didn't pick up much dust or mildew; they were obviously well cared for.

His apprehension eased when he saw Blair. He was in a familiar position; piles of books and papers spread out before him on an oak table, head bowed deep in concentration. A young priest hovered nearby, pretending to read a book, but obviously there to keep an eye on Blair.

"Hey, Chief."

Blair looked up, startled. "Jim! What are you doing here?"

The priest took a signal from Derek and both men left the room, closing the doors behind them.

Jim appraised his friend. There were slight shadows under his eyes, his face was pale, and there was an underlying sense of tension in his body.

"I got a call from Dr. Corrigan. She said you had an attack."

Blair shook his head angrily. "She shouldn't have done that. I'm fine."

"You look tired."

"I just got spooked." Blair tried to laugh it off and failed miserably. "You know, man--three a.m., scary book, over-active imagination."

Jim took a seat opposite Blair at the table. "I'm not buying it. Tell me what happened."

Sighing, Blair removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not sure. I fell asleep reading, and then this woman came in. She was totally beautiful--long red hair, green eyes..." Blair looked up at Jim and grinned guiltily before continuing on. "Anyway, she leaned over and kissed me and the next thing I know, I'm waking up in bed with everyone in the house standing over me."

"Who was the woman?"

"No one knows. Dr. Corrigan thinks I'm a total psycho. I think maybe it was just a nightmare."

Jim saw an unfinished thought. "But?"

"But it felt real. She touched my face and she kissed me and it was real. Except it couldn't be, because..." Blair stopped and put his head in his hands, starting to breathe rapidly.

Jesus, the kid was going to hyperventilate! Jim hopped up from his chair and came around table, putting his hands on Blair's shoulders. "Take it easy, Blair. What's wrong?"

When Blair didn't answer, Jim squatted down in front of him and turned him roughly, forcing him to look into Jim's eyes. The expression of fear on his friend's face almost took Jim's own breath away.

"Do the exercises. Take a deep breath, let it out...come on."

Blair had squeezed his eyes shut tightly, wrapped his arms around his chest, grabbing the flannel of his shirt in a white knuckle grip, and started a barely perceptible rocking motion.

The sight of Blair in this state scared Jim to death.

Patting Blair's shoulder, and squeezing it gently, Jim tried to reach him. "That's it. You're going to be fine. Just concentrate on breathing."

Blair was wild-eyed and shaking now, but at least his eyes were open, and Jim saw a gleam of recognition there. Something had traumatized him badly. Jim was determined to get to the bottom of it, but first he had to help Blair regain some kind of control. He continued to speak softly to his friend, trying to emulate the tone that Blair always used to pull him out of his zone outs, until he was able to take slow, deep breaths again.

"You gonna be OK, now?"

Blair nodded his head mutely, still trembling slightly. His heart was beating a nervous rhythm, but he no longer looked like he was on the verge of hysterics.

Jim left his hands on Blair's shoulders, hoping the contact would help Blair maintain his tenuous control.

"OK, now tell me what in the hell is going on here."

"Hell is right," Blair mumbled.

"You said this woman seemed real. Why do you think she couldn't have been?"

"Because, when she kissed me I wanted to die. I mean, _seriously_ wanted to die. If there had been a gun nearby I would have shot myself. There was so much anguish in that kiss, like all of the atrocities ever committed by man were in that one act. My chest hurt. I thought I was having a heart attack. I remember backing away from her, and she looked...not human. There was nothing human about her, Jim, and I knew she wanted my soul."

"And what happened just now?" Jim wondered if his friend had been drugged. If he'd had a bad trip, it might cause severe flashbacks like this. If one of the people here had slipped him something, there was going to be hell to pay. Blair had already survived one such attack and Jim was going to rip the head off of the person who would dare subject his friend to a trauma like that again.

Blair had stopped rocking and now clenched his hands together tightly in an effort to stop the shaking there. "I felt the pain again. It was like I was drowning. I felt hopeless. It's hard to explain, but I just...I thought after I got some sleep, it would go away. It's fading a little, but not enough. Not even close to enough." Blair's voice cracked, and a plaintive tone entered his voice. "I'm not going nuts, man. I know I'm not. I just want it to stop."

"I know, buddy. We'll figure this out, don't worry. I want to get you out of here, take you to a hospital and get you checked out."

"OK."

If anything, Blair's quick acquiescence concerned Jim more than anything so far. Blair wasn't fond of hospitals and their resistance to natural cures. It wasn't like him to agree without protest.

Jim stood, expecting Blair to follow, but instead his friend's eyes grew almost comically wide as he stared at something behind Jim. _Almost_ funny, if it hadn't been for the odd strangling sound he was making and the fact that Blair's face was now the color of fresh snowfall. For a split second, Jim debated about whether or not to turn around.

When he did turn to look, Jim was almost relieved. It was only an unarmed woman. Blair's redhead. The kid was right, she was beautiful. She looked harmless, but Jim was struck with a feeling of uneasiness.

Something was wrong with her.

It took a moment for Jim to realize what it was. She was too quiet, and the reason for it had nothing to do with the fact that she wasn't talking. One of the curses of his abilities was being able to hear all sorts of human noises that other people couldn't. As he opened up his senses, Jim could detect no breathing, no blood flowing through her veins, nothing. The lack of heartbeat was a chilling counterpoint to the rapid staccato of his partner's.

She wasn't there.

Jim focused behind her, looking for some sort of rear screen projection device but could find none.

Behind him, Blair moaned and collapsed to the floor with a thump, the chair clattering against the table as it went with him.

The woman advanced. Jim placed himself between her and his fallen friend, removing his gun from its holster.

The doors of the library burst open, and Derek and Nick entered, stopping suddenly at the sight of the woman. He wondered how they had known something was wrong.

Derek asked angrily. "Who are you?"

The woman turned a sweet smile in Derek's direction. "I've come for the shaman."

Derek looked startled and glanced at Blair, lying unconscious on the floor, then asked, "Why?"

"I want to help him."

"I think you've helped him enough." Jim answered coldly.

"It wasn't meant to happen that way." Her voice was sweet and her face friendly. "He pulled away before I was finished. I can take the pain away."

Derek repeated his earlier question. "Who are you?"

The woman smiled brightly, looking even more beautiful than she had a moment ago. Her hair and dress were wafted by a non-existent breeze. "A good spirit. You can feel it can't you? Look at me, I'm no threat. If I were, I would have taken him against your protests."

"Unless you can't."

"Of course I can." She flicked a long ivory hand towards Blair. "Wake up."

Jim risked turning his back on the woman and glanced at his friend. Blair's eyes had opened, but he was staring blankly at the ceiling. He had the sudden, horrifying impression that Blair wasn't in there at all, that his body was just an empty shell. Bile rose in his throat and he pushed the fear away, transforming the fire in his gut into a cold knot of anger.

Derek intoned, "In the name of God I order you to reveal yourself to us."

The woman hissed at Derek. It was subtle, but to Jim she looked less human than she had a moment ago. Her pupils had expanded, darkening her eyes, even though the room was filled with bright daylight; her once elegant fingers seemed too long, as if they were reflected in a fun house mirror; and something about her smile had changed, leaving her looking more malevolent than she had a moment before.

"What in the hell is going on here?" Jim asked, barely able to speak through the tightness in his jaw.

"The end of an era, Sentinel." The woman's smile broadened, revealing a set of sharp, white teeth. She pointed at Jim and then at Blair behind him. "You are strong, but he is your heart. Without the heart, the Sentinel is weak and can be corrupted. Your guide is your conscience." She paused and giggled. "Let your conscience be your guide."

"You hurt him and it will be the last thing you ever do."

Green eyes flashed. "You are wrong, Sentinel. If I fail, it will be the last thing I ever do."

"What reason do you have to kill this man?" Derek moved further into the room and raised his voice, trying to draw the woman's attention away from the two men.

"Not all that we do takes place in the realm of the spirits. They destroy the plans of our human counterparts." She held out her hands, palms up. "Apart they are merely men. Extraordinary men, but manageable. She clasped her hands together. "But together, they are more than two men. They are an ancient and powerful combination. The watchman and his guide. You should understand this, Precept. You and your friends are more than the sum of your parts. The Legacy is a threat only when there is harmony among its members."

"Why attack him here?"

"Although they are touched by the spirit world, their work is firmly grounded in the world of flesh. Especially the Sentinel. It is his nature to protect humans. His Guide, by nature and necessity, is more open and vulnerable. That is why, in order for the Guide to protect the Sentinel from the dangers of his unique powers, the Sentinel must protect the Guide from all who would harm him. When the shaman arrived here, alone, in a place open to the spirit world, he became vulnerable."

"But he was not as weak as you expected. You meant to kill him, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did not expect him to realize what was happening and fight me. So few do. I have taken many souls in my time. But you misunderstand the reason I came back. In the state he is in now, he will suffer miserably for the rest of his life, finally driven to insanity. The seeds of it are growing in his mind. I returned to release him from that burden."

Nick snorted humorlessly. "You mean to finish him off, don't you?"

Jim noticed for the first time that the young pilot was carrying a gun.

The woman became beautiful again, and her eyes reflected immense sadness. "He suffers greatly. I only wish to help him."

Nick's eyes narrowed, and his voice dripped with sarcasm. "Somehow I doubt your motives are pure."

All softness left the woman's voice--it now sounded gravely and ancient. "Purity has nothing to do with it, boy! He belongs to me, and I will have him."

Without warning, the woman turned and ran headlong at Jim, shrieking so loudly that Jim fell to his knees and clutched his ears in agony.

Derek began reciting something in Latin, and she paused for a moment, then gestured towards him with her hands. Both Derek and Nick flew backwards against the library doors and collapsed.

Jim struggled to push the pain down as the creature turned to him again. It felt as if someone were driving spikes into his eardrums. As his eyes met hers, he saw that they had become the color of pitch. He felt himself being sucked into them, but then their focus changed, and he was released.

The redhead was staring at Blair with a needy expression that bordered on lust. The pain and fear that were fogging Jim's brain cleared in an instant.

This creature wanted Blair's soul.

It wanted to kill his guide.

Jim rose from his crouch and tackled her.

She shrieked again and Blair screamed in unison. It made the hairs on the back of Jim's neck stand straight up. As he and the woman fell to the floor, she became insubstantial, and he fell through her, feeling an excruciating pain, as if a thousand needles had been pushed into him all at once.

As the screams died down, Jim pushed himself over and looked at Blair. He was pulled halfway off the floor, his feet barely touching the ground and his back arched as if he was suspended from above by a wire in his chest. His eyes were open and unseeing as a dark cloud rose slowly from his body. It had an almost human form. As the last of it left him, disappearing through the ceiling, Blair dropped with a sickening thud.

"Oh, god, Blair." Jim crawled over to his friend, ignoring his own agony. He put his fingers against the carotid artery and felt for a pulse. Still alive. Thank god. The energy went out of him and he rested his head against Blair's chest, listening for a moment to the calming, familiar heartbeat and breathing of his partner. It was nearly drowned out by the thundering in his own chest.

When he had the strength, Jim rolled over onto his back and concentrated on controlling the pain. His hands were trembling, and he felt cold. No, damn it. He took several deep breaths. This was no time to go into shock. Not when Blair needed him.

Derek and Nick were still lying motionless near the door. When Jim felt able to stand, he stowed his gun, and checked their status. Both were already starting to come to.

Footsteps warned him of impending company, and he stepped into the hallway on shaky legs, keeping his senses tightly focused on his friend's condition.

Jim watched as the priest, followed by two women, one an older blonde, and another darker woman, rushed down the hall towards him.

"What happened?" The priest knelt down next to his friends, who had begun to wake up.

"I'm hoping you'll be able to tell me that" Jim returned to Blair's side. His vital signs seemed steady, and he began to stir. When his eyes finally opened, Blair seemed disoriented, but the vacant look was gone.

"Hey, man, what are you doing here?" His eyes closed briefly. "Oh, yeah. I remember now."

"Just take it easy. You're OK."

"Yeah, I know. I don't want to die any more."

Jim felt a lump in his throat and struggled to push it down. The idea of Blair wanting to commit suicide elicited too many emotions in him, not the least of which was something that bordered on panic. He could save Blair from external threats, but...

_No. Save it for later, Ellison!_

"Can you stand?"

"I don't know. I feel weird. Like I'm completely wasted. Actually, a drink doesn't sound like a bad idea right now."

Derek and Nick were being helped to their feet by their friends, who were obviously concerned about them, but didn't seem surprised by what had happened. As if it happened every day. Jim turned back to Blair.

"We'll get you to a doctor."

"No!" Blair shook his head adamantly and tried to get up. He didn't get far before turning pale and sinking back down.

Jim placed a hand on his chest to prevent him from trying again. "Just relax for a minute, Chief."

Blair closed his eyes and spoke more softly. "No way. I want to talk to these people while I still remember everything clearly. I need to know what happened."

"I'm not sure that's possible, Chief." Jim heard the waver in his own voice, and willed himself to remain calm. A minute ago, his friend had almost died and he had no clue about who--or what--had tried to kill him.

"I still want to talk to them." Blair set his face stubbornly, and Jim knew it was a losing battle.

"Well, you're going to need to get up off the floor first, eh?"

Blair grimaced and Jim helped him to stand, supporting him when his knees threatened to buckle.

"Where can we talk?" Jim asked Derek.

The older man ran a hand over his face and shook his head to clear it. "Come with me."

They were led into a sitting room where Blair was settled in a comfortable chair. Jim was introduced to Dr. Corrigan, Father Callaghan and Alex, who had found a blanket and was now gently tucking it around a pale and shaky Blair.

The priest, obviously distraught, slumped into a chair near the door and did not speak. Derek began to approach him with a look of concern, but Philip waved him angrily away.

When they were all more-or-less settled, Blair having secured a cup of hot herbal tea, the discussion began in earnest.

Jim didn't beat around the bush. "So what is this place? Obviously, you aren't what you say you are."

All eyes settled on Derek, and he was silent for a moment, as if deciding how much of the truth he would reveal. "Aside from our philanthropic work, we deal with the occult and supernatural."

"And this is the Legacy the woman mentioned?" In his head, Jim knew that the thing in the library had been a far cry from a 'woman', but he wasn't sure if he was ready to deal with exactly _what_ she was just yet.

"That's what we call ourselves, yes."

Jim set his jaw. "And you allowed Blair to come here, knowing it was dangerous?"

"Absolutely not! I would never have invited him if I had perceived a threat to his welfare. In fact, I believe he was lured here for the express purpose of being made vulnerable. These references he was looking for regarding sentinels, how far would Blair have gone to look at them?"

Blair responded, his voice weak, but obviously fascinated by the conversation. "To the ends of the earth if I thought it would shed some light on J... on sentinels."

Jim returned to the earlier subject. "When you said that you deal with the supernatural, how did you mean? Exorcisms? Seances?"

"We are dedicated to fighting evil. We do whatever is necessary to destroy it."

"Then why would some 'evil spirit' lure Blair to a place where it was likely to be stopped before it could get anywhere? Why not lure him to South America, or some other place far from help and friends and take him out there?"

"Part of it has to do with what the demon was saying. That it needed Blair in a place that was open to the supernatural. But, as you say, there are many places like that in the world. I don't know why he was brought here."

Blair was sitting a little straighter now, his mind back to its normal rate of speed. "Because it's close."

Alex smiled at him, obviously relieved to see him feeling better. "Why would that matter?"

Jim saw what Blair was getting at. "Maybe whatever forces were behind this needed to get Blair out of the way immediately."

"Yeah," Blair said. "I mean, I would absolutely go out of the country to get information, but that's not an easy thing to do."

"You'd have to re-schedule your classes," Alex said.

"Or wait until spring break," Blair nodded. "Not to mention my obligations at the Cascade P.D., and then there's the whole money issue."

"Sandburg doesn't have any," Jim said.

"Coming here," Blair said, "was just a weekend jaunt."

"So logistically, you're an easier target in country. But why?" Nick asked. "Is something going to happen that you two will be able put a stop to?"

Derek smiled. "It's beginning to make sense, now. The demon said that apart you two were merely men, but together you were much more. It spoke of you interfering in the plans of its human counterparts."

"Why did it think we were such a huge threat? I have a better than average arrest record, and Blair and I make one hell of a team, but in the end we're just catching ordinary criminals," Jim said.

Blair snorted, almost spitting out his tea. "Ordinary? Jim, you've got a strange definition of ordinary. Mad bombers, guys threatening to wipe out Cascade with biological weapons, serial killers, arsonists, kidnappers, organized crime, mad yuppies synthesizing designer drugs, people making nuclear weapons. For a city of its size, the crimes happening in Cascade are way beyond normal."

Alex raised her eyebrows. "Like it's a battleground for the fight between good and evil."

Jim shook his head. Admittedly, something strange was going on here, but he was still a strong believer in the power of good detective work and evidence. He hadn't seen either yet. "Let's not get carried away here."

"Jim, what do you think happened in the library? Are you going to tell me what attacked me was human?"

"No. I saw it, felt it. I believe that she was...unnatural. But it doesn't automatically follow that you and I are pawns in some cosmic battle between good and evil."

Derek interrupted before an argument could erupt. "Well, whatever it was, it specifically wanted your partner, Detective Ellison. Just because we stopped it today doesn't mean Blair won't be attacked again. Or you, for that matter. It would be in his best interest if we discovered the exact reason for the attack. Blair, who told you about these references again?"

"Professor White."

"Do you know him well?"

"Not on a personal level. He's always been friendly enough, in a distanced sort of way. He's been really enthusiastic about my sentinel research, though."

Derek nodded. "Because Detective Ellison is one."

"Yeah," Blair muttered and looked at Jim apologetically. "I'm sorry, man, they already knew."

Jim wasn't too crazy about the idea. Yesterday the only people who had known about his abilities were two men he trusted with his life; Simon and Blair, and one criminal who was safely locked away in a federal penitentiary. Today, five more people were privy to that information. All of them were strangers.

"How did you know?"

Derek nodded. "Professor White told me when I called to ask about you. The spirit confirmed what we had already suspected."

_Make that six._

Blair looked startled. "Professor White? There's no way he could know. We've only discussed sentinels in the most general terms. Mostly he was interested in how much attention my work would draw to the university. He's always looking for something that will put Rainier on the map."

"The professor told me you were working with a police detective. He told me he had guessed that you had a living subject for your thesis."

"That would explain his interest. By itself, it's a fairly obscure subject, but with Jim, well, it could be groundbreaking."

"What if he didn't guess?" Alex asked.

Jim leaned forward, suddenly more interested in the conversation. He didn't know how to handle all this supernatural stuff, but if a human was involved in Blair's attack he could definitely take action. "You think he used his knowledge of the Legacy to lure Blair here? That he's some part of all of this?"

"It's possible. Derek, when was the last time the professor was here?"

"Oh, ten years ago at least."

Blair shook his head in disbelief. "Professor White has known about my work since before I met Jim, why would he wait so long to tell me about these references?"

"Exactly." Alex smiled triumphantly.

Derek directed his gaze at Jim. "Perhaps we should do some checking up on White."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Alex, we need to know about your dream. What can you remember of it?"

Jim listened with fascination. He had spoken with Blair about his encounter with the panther/shaman in Peru only once, and very briefly. It had been so intense, so life altering, he'd been reluctant to speak about it out loud. According to this woman's dreams, Blair felt as if he were a less important part of the team because he had not been asked to make a choice as well.

Yet, when Blair had been faced with a choice; leaving Jim and knowing for certain, or staying with Jim and never knowing, he had chosen the latter. At least in Alex's dream. Jim believed it, though. Last year, Blair had chosen Jim over a once-in-a-lifetime expedition. Friendship had won out over the need for stability and reassurance.

"That's your vulnerability," Derek said.

"What is?"

"You two are very close, am I right? Not just partners, but friends."

Jim nodded.

"But Blair is uncertain of his place with you, and in the whole scheme of things. He doesn't know where he belongs because you, as a sentinel, have a very clear function whereas his is unclear. Isn't that right, Blair?"

"Yes. I mean, a sentinel's job is to use his abilities to protect the tribe, in this case, Cascade. But it's a little more complex than that. I guess my job is to try to help Jim adapt physiological advantages that were used to protect small jungle communities so that they're useful in a modern big city."

"Exactly. I need Blair to help me control my senses, and to figure out what they are and how to use them." Jim turned to Blair. "Without him, I'd be a complete basket case."

Blair shook his head in frustration. "Oh, come on. When was the last time you had a zone out? And getting you to submit to any experiments to test your abilities is like pulling teeth. The fact is, if I dropped off the face of the earth right now...I'm not talking about our friendship here, forget that for a second...if I dropped off the face of the earth, you'd get along just fine. If you had trouble you could get Simon to help you out, or maybe find someone else at the university who could understand my notes and research. Sometimes I feel like a glorified baby sitter."

"You're wrong, Blair. I don't zone out much any more because you are here, not because I've learned to control it. I can't really explain it, but I think in some ways _you_ are my control."

Blair stood up and began pacing, running his hands through his hair. "Jim, that's just not true. I'm not some genetic throwback to a pre-civilized breed of sidekick, you know. I'm just a broke anthropologist who picked an obscure thesis subject and was lucky enough to have found you. There isn't anything special..."

Blair stopped in mid rant and turned pale.

"Blair?" Jim jumped up from his chair and grabbed Blair's arm. Derek was close behind.

The young man closed his eyes and swayed slightly. "I feel a little dizzy. Standing was probably a bad idea."

"Did you eat anything today?" Jim settled his friend in the chair again and pulled the blanket over him.

"I don't remember."

Alex shook her head.

"OK, let's rustle up some lunch, shall we?" Derek gestured to the Legacy members to follow him. "Blair, Detective, why don't you rest while we get things started? We can discuss this again later."


	7. X and XI

**X**.

Nick followed Derek into the conference room, observing the reactions of his colleagues. Philip looked depressed, Alex worried, and Derek and Rachel had both put on their professional masks.

Arrangements were made for lunch, while the others took seats.

When he had finished his instructions to the servants, Derek asked, "Alex, what did you find out about the books Blair was reading last night before he was attacked?"

Alex said, "Most of it was pretty dry stuff. An account of the African travels of a 16th century missionary. There were no sentinel references and not much in the way of rituals was described. Another book describing Aztec life. There was one that gave me pause because it didn't seem to be a likely book for Blair to be researching. 'Human Sacrifice: Appeasing the Spirits'. I've been reading through it, and it's the last place I'd look for mentions of sentinels. It's a completely discredited book, written to appeal to the same kinds of people who buy supermarket tabloids."

Philip smiled grimly. "Ah. That must've been what he was giggling at last night. I wondered what he was up to. Poor guy. Should've known better than to come here. Nobody with any light in them can survive this place."

"That's not true Philip." Alex laid a hand gently on his shoulder, but the priest shrugged it away. He stood and walked over to the window. Nick doubted he was seeing anything.

Nick tried to contain his anger. Last night he'd heard Philip laugh for the first time in months. Blair had been able to reach some part of the priest that Nick had thought was destroyed. The man had earned Nick's undying gratitude for that. Now some evil bullshit had taken even that little bit of joy away from Philip. Away from all of them. If he got the opportunity, he was going to make sure there was some pay back.

Derek rose and walked over to the priest, turning him gently and placing both hands firmly on his shoulders. "We will do everything we can to make Blair safe. You know that. And what if this thing did have enough time to lure Blair somewhere far from help to attack him? He'd be dead now. He's very lucky he was here where we could help him. Think about that, my friend."

Philip shook his head angrily. "We can't undo what's been done. Whatever that thing was, it drove the man to thoughts of suicide. Thoughts that had no business being inside his head. We can't repair that."

"No, but I think he will," Alex said.

Philip turned and looked at Alex sharply. "How?"

"All those impressions I got when I first met him were jumbled up. There was a lot of emotion there. Some of it was bad. _Really_ bad. He's been through a lot, and some of it still haunts him, but the one thing that was a constant in that jumble was his ability to find the good in things. His enthusiasm for learning, his devotion to his friends and family, his passion as a teacher. I felt all of that, and I know it overwhelms all of the negative stuff. He's not the type of person who dwells in the past. He'll be OK."

"I wish I could believe you, Alex."

Derek squeezed Philip's shoulder and abruptly became business-like again as he turned to face the rest of the room. "Believe her, because that is what will save them. I'm certain that with our help they'll be able to defeat this thing."

**XI.**

Blair sat silently in the comfortable chair near the fireplace, fiddling nervously with the blanket Jim had draped over him. Now that he had time to think about it, his little outburst was just a _little_ embarrassing. He wondered what Alex would think of his wallow in self-pity.

He didn't have to wonder about Jim. He was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace looking frustrated and angry.

Jim suddenly wheeled around to face Blair: stopping to stare at him, still as stone. It was a full minute before Blair finally broke.

"What?"

Jim looked as if he were interrogating a suspect. "You don't really believe that, do you? That you're easily replaceable?"

"Sometimes. I'm just trying to be realistic here. I mean, I'm still an anthropologist and you're still a cop, and someday we're going to part company. It's just the way life works. I think it's easier for me to think that you won't have only me to depend on for help with your senses all of your life."

Jim's face softened and his eyes cleared, as if he suddenly understood. "You don't want to be tied down to that kind of responsibility."

"No, I don't mind that. Believe me, man, if you'd met some of the people I did when I was testing subjects with one or two enhanced senses you'd know that I could have done _way_ worse than you."

The sarcasm in Jim's tone was belied by the way his whole body seemed suddenly relaxed. "Gee thanks, Sandburg."

Blair smirked. "It's just that I don't want you to be stuck with me. You're vulnerable that way. I want you to get to a point where you don't have to depend on anyone else to get you through your zone outs. You're not going to be really free until then. And what was that bull about me being your control anyway? Are you telling me that with everything we've worked on...the breathing exercises and the tests, you don't have any more control over your abilities than when we first met?"

"They've definitely helped, but I still have zone outs, and you want to know what I focus on when I feel one starting? Your voice. I don't know, maybe I'm not trying hard enough to control it other ways. It's easier to use you to keep me grounded."

Blair snorted. "Well if that's all it is, I'll get you a tape recorder with my voice on it. You can hit play every time you feel yourself starting to zone."

Jim's eyes turned cold and his jaw clenched.

_Oh, shit._

Blair braced himself.

"Do you really think you're worth so little to me that you can be replaced by a piece of machinery? You're my partner. And if you believe that the only thing I value you for is your ability to pull me out of a zone, then you don't know me very well. I can point to a dozen cases that were solved because you provided the crucial piece to the puzzle. You're a sharp guy, Chief. Don't sell yourself short."

"O.K., you've got a point, man, but I'm talking about the times when a partner really matters. The life or death stuff. The thing is, you're a cop, I'm an anthropologist. I'm like, genetically unsuited to the whole violence thing. In a crunch, I can hold a gun on a guy or punch out the occasional woman, but I'm not that good at it."

Jim shook his head and growled low in his throat, then stood up and began pacing the room silently.

"It's true, Jim. Think about it. How many times have you ignored your own safety to keep me from getting ventilated? When you're protecting me, you aren't protecting yourself, and frankly, it scares the hell out of me. We've been lucky so far, but one of these days our luck is going to run out. I dread the day when you're in real trouble, and I'm the only back-up you have. You'll be toast--me too, probably--because you don't have a partner who's a real, trained cop."

Jim spun around and leaned towards Blair, getting right up into his face, and said softly. "Bullshit."

Blair's gaze shot to the door as he heard Dr. Rayne clear his throat and tell them that lunch was ready.

Jim straightened and took a deep breath.

"We'll talk about this later, Chief."

Blair was lost in his thoughts through much of lunch. Jim was never much for warm and fuzzy declarations of friendship, but what had happened a few minutes ago was pretty close. Oddly enough, Jim's anger had made Blair feel better about his status as the detective's partner.

Blair felt cool fingers on his arm and he turned, startled to see Alex leaning toward him with a look of concern on her face. "Huh?"

"I asked you if you were feeling all right. You seemed lost for a minute."

"Oh, yeah. I'm great. Just have a lot to think about, you know?"

"I know. Your visit hasn't turned out like you planned, has it?"

"That is like, a _huge_ understatement." Blair grinned. "It's sure been interesting, though. All of this would make a great thesis if I could find a thesis committee that would buy it."

Blair glanced around to find himself the center of attention. He felt a hot blush creeping up his neck. Jim was still angry, Philip looked like his dog had just died, and everyone else was staring at him as though they expected him to start running around the dining room screaming and pulling out his hair. Not that the thought hadn't occurred to him, but he didn't think Jim would take it too well.

"Really guys. Don't worry. I've survived serial killers, terrorists and hallucinogens, I think I can survive this." Blair avoided looking at his partner. He could almost hear Jim's jaw twitching. "By the way, do you have any idea what _this_ is?"

Derek nodded. "Some kind of malevolent entity, obviously. Perhaps a demon, although we haven't been able to put a name to it yet." The precept raised his eyebrows as if something had just occurred to him. "You must deal with a lot of artifacts in your work, correct?"

"Sure, all the time."

"Is there anything that you've come into contact within the last few days that was unusual in any way?"

"Depends on your definition of unusual." Blair mentally ticked off the artifacts in his office, and came up with nothing out of the ordinary. Plenty of them dealt with religious rites. Any of those could have something to do with the supernatural.

_Supernatural. Yeah, right. Never thought about exorcising your Early Mayan Crockery before, did you Sandburg? But now it's not looking like a bad idea. Just when, exactly, did you lose your mind, and why hasn't anyone noticed yet?_

"Would you be willing to allow Alex and Nick to go to the university and check out your office tomorrow?"

"Sure, if I can come with you." His fears were rapidly being overcome with curiosity. The idea that an artifact could contain some connection to the spirit world, good or evil, was fascinating. He wanted the chance to talk to Alex about her work and her experiences.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Chief."

"Don't start, Jim," Blair warned. "I'm no safer here than I am there. Maybe I'm even safer in Cascade. Not counting golden fire people, I've never seen any apparitions there."

Jim's eyes flashed dangerously. "That's not funny."

It wasn't-not really-but Blair wasn't in the mood. He felt his earlier fears being overcome by a fierce determination to fight whatever this was. "Sure it is. Look, I know this whole thing has put your big brother/blessed protector instincts into overdrive, but I'm OK now."

Jim shook his head in disbelief. "Less than an hour ago, you were suspended off the floor of the library with some black 'thing' coming out of your body. A few minutes ago, you almost passed out. Don't tell me you're OK."

"I admit it, man. It took a lot out of me, and I'm tired as hell, but by tomorrow I'll be fine. I just want to have some part in my own rescue. Besides, they said this thing could come after you, too, so I have selfish reasons for helping. I mean, imagine me sitting in Simon's office." Blair began imitating his captain, using a bread stick as a cigar. 'Where's Ellison, Sandburg?' 'Well, sir, there was this demon, and she sort...' 'A what?' 'A demon, sir. You know, spawn of Satan. Anyway, a crack opened up in the earth and this demon kinda carried Jim through it and...' You get the picture, Jim. I'm pretty sure he'd swallow his cigar and then I'd lose two friends."

Jim looked grim for a moment, and then appeared to visualize his captain's reaction to that kind of news. He chuckled softly and shook his head in resignation. "All right, Chief, you win. I'm going with you, though."

"Joined at the hip. I know. Wouldn't have it any other way, man."

Blair looked at the other people seated there. Alex and Nick had amused smiles on their faces but the others didn't. "Hey, I'm sorry. I don't mean to make light of what you do. It's just that, well, you know, to people who believe themselves to be firmly grounded in reality, like the captain, this seems totally absurd. It was hard enough for him to accept what he believes is a genetic advantage in Jim. If we ever try to tell him what's happened here, he'll totally freak."

Alex smiled at him. "We understand, Blair."

Blair couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that he'd just insulted these people. "I really admire you guys. I know I wouldn't be able to face this kind of evil day after day."

"You face it too, Mr. Sandburg," Derek said. "The human kind is no less dangerous."

"I hear that."


	8. XII and XIII

**XII.**

Alex stood and stretched, feeling vertebrae pop. She'd been at it for hours but had found nothing that resembled a manifestation of the type Blair had experienced. There were elements of it that reminded her of a succubus--the fact that it had appeared to Blair as a beautiful woman, and attacked him by means of a kiss were consistent with that type of entity--but mating hadn't appeared to be its goal.

It_ had _gone for one of his weaknesses. Women. Alex had noticed that right away. Blair seemed slightly immature in that sense; his eyes always drawn to the nearest attractive woman. She'd seen him appraising Rachel earlier, and she herself had fallen victim to it. Still, there was nothing malevolent in his intentions. He simply seemed to love women, and was perhaps a little too eager to connect. Considering all of his other assets, she thought she'd be able to overlook his wandering eye. After all, his spirited curiosity was one of the things that had attracted her to him in the first place.

Alex had always used her work to bury the acute loneliness that came with a career with the Legacy. Ever since Blair had arrived, it had risen to the surface. Alex loved her friends, but sometimes the island felt like a prison, and the claustrophobia was almost unbearable.

At one time, she'd entertained the hope that she and Derek would get together. That had quickly faded after seeing the charged glances and tentative touching between Derek and Rachel. Every time Alex thought they would finally connect, one of them stepped away. For Rachel, it was the fear of falling in love with someone and losing them again. With Derek, well, maybe it was the same, or maybe he was hesitant to start a relationship with someone whose safety he felt ultimately responsible for. So they buried it, and pretended it wasn't there. Most of the time, anyway.

As far as the only other available male at Legacy House, she hadn't felt any sparks with Nick. Alex loved him like a brother and didn't see that changing any time in the near future. And Philip, as beautiful as he was, was still a priest. She hadn't even allowed herself to consider it.

That left Alex's chances for romance at about zero. Sure, she'd dated men from the university, and been set up on blind dates by Rachel and some of her old friends, but dating anyone seriously seemed more trouble than it was worth. Inevitably, there would come the questions about what she did for a living, and what the Legacy was, and she'd be faced with either lying, or presenting the man with a truth that was more than a little hard to swallow.

That's why the idea of going out with Blair appealed to Alex so much. He already knew what was going on, and didn't seem fazed by it. It still amazed her how easily he'd accepted the existence of a supernatural world beneath the real one, but then, he'd experienced if first hand. He really didn't have much of a choice.

God, a date with Blair would be almost like a normal date. When was the last time she'd had one of those? No worries about what questions he'd ask, no reason to lie to him. Just to go out with a cute guy and have some laughs and not worry about what foul curse would rear its ugly head next seemed like heaven.

Not that Blair Sandburg was exactly normal. By all accounts, he lead a life as fraught with danger as any Legacy member. Still, he'd managed to remain optimistic and energetic. He seemed to thrive on the chaos. And really, let's face it, dealing with human criminals was a far cry from the reality altering work she did. At least he was a little more grounded than she was.

Nick looked up from the screen where he was searching for information on Professor White. "Any luck?"

One corner of his mouth turned up in a grin, and Alex suddenly felt as if he'd been reading her thoughts. Was the look on her face that obvious?

Alex cleared her throat and bit down on her own smile. "Not really. How about you?"

"White went on an expedition to Peru several years ago. By itself, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but apparently Ellison was there at the same time. He was in the military, and his helicopter went down in the jungle there. Killed everyone but him. He was presumed dead for over a year before he was found. He had turned native and was living with an Indian tribe. Made the national news."

"Wow." Detective Ellison had just become a lot more intriguing. "So you think they knew each other?"

"It's a big coincidence."

"What was White studying?"

"He seems to have had an interest in tribal religious beliefs, particularly those concerning the afterlife and parallels between Western images of the Devil and their gods of the underworld."

Alex raised her eyebrows. Things was getting very interesting.

**XIII.**

Derek entered his study to find Detective Ellison on the phone. He had to admit, the man probably made a fine police officer, even without his enhanced senses. He was obviously an intelligent man, and he had the kind of intimidating presence that would be useful when dealing with society's darker elements. Ellison was a little over six feet tall, solidly built, with a muscular neck and close cropped hair. His ice blue eyes were unyielding. If Derek hadn't witnessed the man's obvious concern for his young friend, he might have thought him cold.

"Rafe, I need a favor...No, Sandburg's fine. Just a flu bug...I'll let him know...Yeah, well, don't tell him that, he'll get a swelled head...Look, I need you to run a check on someone. Professor..." Jim looked at Derek inquisitively.

"John."

"Professor John White. Could be an alias. He's with the anthropology department at Rainier...No I'm not sure what I'm looking for. Any past criminal activities, the usual...No, tell Simon it's just a hunch and I'll get back to him later tonight...Tell Taggert not to worry, Sandburg'll be back cooking strange things for him in no time...OK, thanks."

Jim hung up the phone and looked at Derek. "They'll dig up what they can."

Derek was a little surprised. He would have thought that someone like Blair would have a difficult time in a closed society like a police station. But the detective's side of the conversation indicated that the people there were worried about him. It shouldn't have surprised him, really. In a very short time, most of his people had become attached to the man.

Especially Philip. Derek felt more than the usual urgency to this case. He had specifically involved his friend in this, thinking to pull him out of his deepening depression. He had yanked him away from his congregation to work with someone who was _not_ in danger. Derek's intention had been to show Philip that the Legacy was capable of being involved in something positive, that it wasn't always about the fight against evil, but sometimes just about helping someone. Damnit, he should have known better! The guilt was clawing at him, ready to do some real damage.

He had no business pressuring him into anything. Philip knew his own limits better than anyone else, and Derek was constantly testing those limits. Was it pure selfishness? Maybe. Derek wanted Philip to rejoin the Legacy. His absence had been sorely felt and he was an invaluable asset. But Philip wasn't a tool to be used in the fight against evil, he was a human being, and a fragile one at that. If Derek kept pushing, how long before he broke?

With a start, Derek realized that Ellison had been speaking to him. "I'm sorry, what were you saying, Detective?" He gestured to the comfortable leather chairs in front of the large desk, and both men sat down.

"You said that thing in the library was probably a demon. I want to know how to fight it."

Derek almost smiled. Ellison was not one to sit idly by and watch things unfold, that was certain. "It's not that simple, Detective."

"But can't the priest..."

"Father Callaghan."

"Can't Father Callaghan do an exorcism, say a prayer, whatever it is priests do?"

"An exorcism is used when someone has been possessed by an evil spirit. Your friend isn't possessed, he's being attacked. While prayer will certainly help, this entity is strong. We'll need more ammunition to fight it."

There was a knock on the door, and Nick entered, carrying a small sheaf of papers. He glanced curiously at Ellison as he handed them to Derek and retreated. Derek read for long moments before he looked up.

"Ammunition?" Ellison asked.

"Possibly." Derek decided to let the detective make the connection himself. He told him of Professor White's expedition to Peru.

"You already know I was there at that time."

"Yes."

"Do you have a picture of him?"

Derek handed over a photocopy of a newspaper article, with a grainy black and white photo. The detective studied it for a long time, but Derek saw no hint of recognition there. That didn't mean anything. He suspected the man had an unbeatable poker face.

"My memory of that time isn't clear, but I'm fairly sure that I didn't meet any other Americans between the time the chopper went down and the rescue team arrived. If White was there, he wasn't where I could see him, and believe me, I would have noticed him."

"Your senses would have helped you?"

"Yes. There wasn't much going on in my corner of the jungle that I didn't know about, and the men I trained were good. No middle-aged anthropologist was going to go traipsing around in our territory without us knowing about it. He had to have been somewhere else in Peru."

"It's quite a coincidence, don't you think?"

"The jungle is a big place." Ellison stood, signaling an end to the meeting. "Excuse me, I'm going to check on my partner. "

As Derek watched him go, he wondered if the detective was holding something back or if it was in his nature to be uncommunicative. He hadn't offered much in the way of information about his experiences in Peru. Perhaps he was telling the truth when he said he didn't remember much, but it would bear more scrutiny. Ellison wouldn't withhold any information he thought could help his friend, of that Derek was certain.

The Legacy was no closer to solving this mystery than they had been yesterday, and a vague sense of unease pervaded him. They were all in danger now, not just Blair. The evil presence Derek had felt in the library last night seemed to be all around now, penetrating everything.

Derek stood and turned to the window. The water of the bay sparkled with the golden hues of the afternoon sun and scattered clouds cast shadows upon the skyscrapers in the distance. Ominous, how the bright reflections on the glass turned dark and dull, as if the shadows were a physical presence, absorbing the light and feeding on it. The invisible darkness expanded, engulfing the massive structure of steel and glass and sliding at a leisurely pace towards the next building. Like a malignant tumor, it would grow until it had swallowed the city whole.

Gasping, Derek took a step back and the cloud passed the sun, bathing the scene before him in bright daylight. Everything seemed normal now, but the beauty before him had a staged quality. Lurking behind the facade was something that no longer threatened only Blair Sandburg, but everyone in the house, and if left unchecked, possibly the world itself.


	9. XIV and XV

**XIV.**

Philip heard the library door open and looked up. Blair stood hesitantly at the entrance, his arms crossed protectively across his chest, and scanned the room furtively.

"I thought you were going to rest," Philip asked with a little more irritation than was warranted.

The young man shrugged and bounced a little on the balls of his feet. "Uh, yeah. That didn't work out too well. I thought I'd help you go through the books."

"Are you sure you want to be in here?"

"I can handle it, man. Just as long as there aren't any banshees lurking amongst the dust bunnies." Bravely, he took several steps farther into the room.

"There aren't any dust bunnies in this library," Philip said indignantly.

Blair stopped in mid bounce and raised his eyebrows, his mouth turned up in the beginnings of a smile. "Well, that's a relief."

"Ha! C'mon in. You're as safe here as y'are anywhere else in the house."

"Great." The young man walked over and peered at the book in Philip's hand. The page was open to a rather graphic illustration of a virgin sacrifice. Blair grimaced. "So, having any luck?"

"Nothing so far, but it may be easier with you here. There are a lot of books to check."

Blair stepped back a fraction, but was still almost close enough to be invading Philip's personal space. He didn't blame the kid for being nervous.

"This may be a stupid question, but if it was a book that started all of this, then wouldn't my reading it again just make things worse?"

"Nah. _If_ it was a book, you've already released what was in it. You can't release it twice."

"OK." Blair sounded as if he were trying to convince himself. "That makes sense."

They worked silently for a while, Blair hovering nearby at first, but spreading out a little as he became more relaxed. About twenty minutes later Philip heard a gasp from across the room. His heart jumped to his throat, and he spun around, expecting to see Blair under attack. Instead, he saw him with an open book in his hands, fear and excitement at war on his face.

"I think I found it! This is her, I know it."

Blair walked over to a table and set the book down, face open, motioning for Philip to join him.

"This text was written after the first English expedition into the Peruvian jungle. That's what caught my eye. The explorers came upon a tribe of cannibals in a remote location. They were spared becoming the main course because of their strange looks and their similarity in appearance to the tribe's shaman. This is her."

The crude woodcut showed a tall woman with long hair, and features that were distinctly European.

"It says her skin was the color of milk and her hair the color of fire. She had green eyes. The English claimed that it would have been impossible for a white woman to have reached that part of the jungle on her own, so she couldn't be European. They claimed that she was some kind of freak of nature. Probably so that their status as first in the region wouldn't be jeopardized."

"Maybe not."

"She's obviously not a native. Where do you think she's from?"

Philip looked at Blair and raised his eyebrows. Surely he hadn't forgotten his last encounter with the woman?

Realization dawned. "Oh, right. The Pits of Hell. I keep forgetting. Do you ever, like, just look at what you do here and think that it's totally absurd? I mean, when a ghost or some other evil thing spits out a line that's straight from a B horror movie, do you ever just laugh?"

Philip looked back at his encounters over the years and could not dredge up one bit of humor from any of them. "Sitting in a safe movie theater eating popcorn and watching a demon rip an actor to shreds is not the same as watching a _real_ demon killing a real human being. Yes, it seems absurd. No, I don't laugh."

"I'm sorry, man. I'm being an ass."

"No you aren't. You've dealt with all of this amazingly well."

"You think? I think if I see one more demon I'm going to run from here screaming and go live with Brother Marcus at the monastery."

Philip put a hand on Blair's shoulder. "You're stronger than you think you are."

"I know, man. Thanks." Blair returned Philip's solemn gaze for a moment before asking, "So if the woman in this book was a demon way back then, what is she doing here now, and how do we stop her?"

"I don't know, but we have a name. That's a start."

Blair stared at the book as if expecting the illustration to come to life. His voice was so soft, Philip almost didn't hear it.

"Innuai."

**XV.**

Rachel stifled a yawn. She'd been up all night with the rest of Legacy House, but unlike the others' almost inexhaustible supply of energy, hers had about run out. She didn't know how they did it, especially Blair Sandburg. After all he'd been through, he'd refused to rest and was now in the library helping Philip. It was just as well. The prospect of trying to stay awake while watching the young man sleep had not been particularly appealing.

Rachel headed up to her room, envisioning her soft, warm bed. A short nap wouldn't hurt. Rachel still had to talk to Blair later, and she had no doubt that he would have a lot of issues to work out. She'd need to be fresh for it.

One session wouldn't be nearly enough, but if Derek thought that it would help, then who was she to argue? Rachel still believed that much of what had happened to him was directly related to his insecurities. Yes, Derek and Nick had both seen the apparition in the library, but there was a part of her that still believed ghosts and demons were physical manifestations of psychological problems.

Denying the existence of the supernatural seemed foolish to the rest of the Legacy, especially after all the proof that had been presented to her, but Rachel clung to science and reason like a lifeline. Maybe she always would. Some part deep within her did believe, but logic and common sense would always be her first line of defense. It helped to preserve her sanity.

Her common sense told her that Blair had suffered a panic attack. He'd admitted to having them before, and he'd spent time in therapy as a child. He was certain that what had happened in the library was not panic, but Rachel was intimately familiar with denial, and she recognized it in Blair.

Rachel reached her room and kicked off her shoes, then crawled onto the bed fully clothed and pulled the comforter over her. She sighed as she sank down into the pillows and snuggled deeper into the bed. Her vision darkened for a moment, then cleared. Yes, she definitely needed rest.

But she couldn't sleep.

The problem with Blair remained foremost in her mind. If his condition had been caused by anxiety, then it had reached a severe and life threatening level. Rachel wasn't sure if she was equipped to handle a case like that. It might be necessary to have him committed for observation. The hyperactivity that everyone else found endearing, she found disturbing. She saw it for what it was. The young man was filled with nervous tension, and it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

It suddenly seemed very urgent to Rachel that she talk with Blair before that happened. The exhaustion she had been feeling moments ago was now replaced with the fear that if she didn't speak with him now, it would be too late.

Throwing off the covers, she went in search of her new patient.


	10. XVI and XVII

**XVI.**

No matter what he thought of the supernatural, Jim had to admit, these people had their act together. Derek Rayne was a natural leader, and the people under him obviously respected him. They were all professional and competent, and seemed genuinely concerned about doing something to help Blair. If the Legacy was a department at the Cascade PD, it would have an excellent record.

Jim really wished it was. As much as he'd been avoiding it, the fact was that something seriously screwy was going on here. Dealing with genetic enhancements, mysterious spirit guides and the occasional psychic was one thing. Those experiences had frayed the edges of his reality, but this, well, this punched a hole right through the middle of it.

Blair had been attacked by a demon.

_Twice._

The more he thought about it, the less likely it seemed. Phantasms, poltergeists, imps and ghosts: these were the products of overactive imaginations; invented by people who were afraid of death, and afraid of the unknown. They were stories to tell around a campfire. Everything that had happened here could be explained rationally. Blair had been drugged, the image in the library was just a cleverly designed hologram, and the feeling he'd had when the apparition had gone through him...

_Yes, Ellison. What about that?_

Pins and needles. That was the closest he could come to the physical sensation. Words couldn't adequately describe it. Had it been some sort of electric shock? No, it was deeper than that. He'd felt it in more than just his physical body, he'd felt it in his soul as well. A sort of buzzing sensation, one that could only be heard internally. There was a sense of memories being shuffled as it had gone through him, of an intrusion into his deepest secrets. That wasn't possible. None of this was possible, none of it was rational.

And what about Blair? Nothing had ever frightened Jim as much as his friend's soulless stare as he lay on the floor of the library. And when he had risen from the ground, held aloft by no wires that Jim could detect, and that foul and malevolent stream of black...what? Smoke? Ectoplasm? Evil?...had poured from him, Jim had felt like it was the end of the world.

There was no concrete way to fight against something like that. No manual, no training course, just make it up as you go along. At least, that was the impression he'd gotten from his meeting with Derek. That was why he didn't want to believe it was real. Whatever was attacking Blair, it couldn't be shot, or hit, or thrown in jail. He damned sure wasn't going to be able to read it its rights and get it a lawyer. Jim was totally dependent upon the strangers in this house to get Blair out of whatever he'd gotten into, and he hated it.

Sandburg, however, seemed to have adapted beautifully. Jim would have expected nothing less. For him, life was a huge puzzle, and he could change shape to fit in wherever he needed to be. It was a valuable trait, but one that sometimes left Jim wondering if he knew exactly who Sandburg was. Every time Jim thought he had him pegged, the kid would surprise him.

Whatever else could be said about the anthropologist's intrusion into and subsequent takeover of Jim's life, he definitely made things interesting.

Like now, for instance. Jim had finally managed to track Sandburg down, not sleeping, like he was supposed to be, but in the _library_ with Father Callaghan.

Sandburg had narrowly missed the lecture Jim was preparing; rescued by the arrival of Rachel Corrigan. He knew it, too. He'd been just a little too eager to go with her to have his "talk". It was only a temporary reprieve. Jim intended to let Sandburg know exactly what he thought about his friend walking straight into the lion's den without a thought for his own safety. Not that it would do any good. Sandburg had learned a lot of things about police work since he'd met Jim, but staying out of trouble wasn't one of them.

"Detective Ellison?"

Jim had become so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the priest talking to him.

"Hmmm? Sorry, yes?"

"I said, Blair and I found a reference that may be related to the demon."

Philip showed Jim the passage and the wood cut. He'd have Alex check the demon's name on the Legacy database to see if he could find any other matches.

"Its name is Innuai?"

"Yes."

"You said knowing that would help. How?"

"Part of its power comes from its anonymity. It's hard to explain, but think about it this way; that which is unknown is more frightening than that which is known. Part of the demon's power is derived from causing fear in its victim. The more we know about it and its origins, the weaker it becomes."

"But just knowing about it won't get rid of it completely?"

Philip shrugged. "It depends on the strength of the demon. In this case, I don't think so. A lot will depend on Blair."

"You make it sound like he's going to do this on his own. I'm not going to let him fight this thing without me."

Philip smiled, just a little. "Of course, Detective."

**XVII.**

Two hours.

Two long, excruciating hours of incessant chatter. Blair seemed to be feeling better, but Rachel had a splitting headache.

She'd already catalogued the entire contents of the office. Memorized the location of everything on Derek's desk, counted the knots in the wood paneling, made a mental note to water the plants, and read the spine of every book on the shelves while fighting the urge to pull one down and read it. Did he ever run out of steam?

Maybe he was talking so much because he'd never find another psychiatrist to whom he could tell the supposed _truth_ about his insecurities. Especially the ones about Ellison and his "sentinel abilities".

Rachel had listened patiently throughout the young man's tedious monologue, wearing her pleasant "listening face". She wasn't as friendly as she might have been, but then, he didn't seem to be paying any attention to her at all. Just needed a warm body to vent to, she supposed.

"You still think I'm a total head case, don't you?"

Rachel smiled, reveling in the subtle changes that had taken place in her. They were not entirely unwelcome. They'd started earlier today, and had been slowly gaining force as she talked to Blair. Rachel knew that with just a little effort, she could destroy every effort made by James Ellison to convince the young man that he had a place beside the sentinel.

This little boy had fast become annoying with his too cheerful outlook on life; his insatiable curiosity; the way he lusted after Alex. With her knowledge of the human mind, it wouldn't take much work at all to turn Blair Sandburg into a complete wreck.

Such a nice change from helping people all the time. People with their petty little problems, their insignificant insecurities. Weak people.

Spending her days in the office trying to talk sniveling morons into feeling better about themselves was so... boring.

"No, Blair. I don't think that at all. I just think maybe you depend too much on this idea of a sentinel and his guide. You've allowed your identity to be subverted on the basis of an old monograph and a chance meeting. Who were you _before_ you met Jim?"

Blair shrugged. "A student, a teacher, a researcher. The same as I am now, but..."

"But?"

"But now I'm something more."

"Because of Detective Ellison?"

"Yes."

_Yes._

Rachel leaned back casually in her chair, pretending once again to write in her small notebook. "So, you're saying that he defines who you are. That's not very healthy. What if none of this is true?"

"What if none of _what_ is true?"

Rachel had to tread carefully now. As annoying as he was, Blair wasn't stupid. "The bond that you are so sure exists. From what you tell me, you've helped increase your friend's conviction rate. That's very good for his career. And it wasn't just these 'senses' that did it; it was your input, your intellect. What makes you think he isn't just using you to make his life easier?"

Blair looked at her for a long moment, his face changing from shock to disgust.

_Damn._

The anger on Blair's face was unexpected. Rachel hadn't thought he had it in him.

"You know, I've been to see a lot of therapists in my life, but I've never had one who tried to mess me up instead of helping me. I don't know what your problem is, but I'm not hanging around to find out."

As Blair stood up and turned to walk away, Rachel stopped him with one hand on his shoulder, resisting the urge to force her fingernails through the soft flannel of his shirt until she drew blood. "Blair, I'm not trying to hurt you. I just want you to consider all of the possibilities here. I've dealt with a lot of dysfunctional relationships in my time. I see a familiar pattern here. You work very hard to help your friend. You've invested your time, energy and emotions into this relationship, but I have yet to hear you say anything that sounds like you've received a return on that investment. I've listened to you tell me what you do for him, and other than attempting to keep you alive when he puts you in danger, I don't see what he's done for you. You are making all of the sacrifices and you aren't even sure of your place in his life. You consider him family. Does Jim return that sentiment?"

The young man had tensed up, and now spun out of Rachel's grip. "Yes, he does!" Blair closed his eyes, took several deep breaths and then spoke more calmly, gesturing with his hands as if to try to convey how much he believed what he was saying. "Jim does a lot more than just keep me alive. He's the best friend I've ever had. He gave me a home when I didn't have one anymore. I know, no matter what, if I really need him, he'll be there for me. I trust him. He's taught me about more than just police work; he's taught me about courage and honor. So you're wrong, I got plenty back on my investment." Blair shook his head in frustration. "I'm not sure what kind of head trip you're trying to lay on me right now, lady, but I'm not buying it."

Rachel bristled. He sounded as if he were _lecturing_ her. How dare he? She felt a burning in her stomach that began to work its way slowly up to her chest. When she spoke, it was so softly that Blair had to lean forward to hear her. "You are nothing, Blair Sandburg. He could drop you at a moments notice and be fine, because he _does...not...need...you._ He's your friend, so he tolerates you. Tolerates your prying questions, your clothes lying all over the bathroom floor, the way you've invaded and disrupted his peaceful home. He's a nice guy, Blair. Too nice to tell you the truth. He just wants to be left alone to do his job and use his senses without some long-haired freak following around behind him like a stray puppy. He needed you before, in the beginning, but not now. He's done with you and he just doesn't know how to cut you loose."

It almost worked. For a moment Blair's eyes grew wide, and the fear crept in. Then something else took over. Something stronger than his fear. Rachel should have known that the bond was too powerful to sever with words.

His blue eyes bored into Rachel, and for a moment she faltered.

_What am I trying to do to this man?_

"You are a _liar_. Screw you."

As Blair turned to leave, Rachel's hand moved back instinctively and grabbed the glass paperweight from the desk. He had almost reached the door when she brought it down on the side of his head. Not hard enough to kill. Something held her back. Still, Blair crumpled to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut.

Rachel blinked and held up the clear ball, turning it slowly in her hand. It was filled with strange swirling patterns, like a tornado forever captured in the moment before it begins its destruction. The smear of red that she saw on it was incongruous. Blood. Beyond the glass and reflected within it was a dark, motionless figure, shifting from the form of a dark jungle cat into that of a man.

Everything around her had taken on a kind of hyper realism. The colors were brighter, the air was sharper, and time seemed to have slowed to a standstill.

Rachel shifted her gaze. At her feet, so still he seemed to be barely breathing, lay Blair Sandburg. A man whom she'd only just met, and who had done nothing to harm her. Kneeling down, she observed him more closely. She hadn't noticed before just how young he was. He lay on his stomach, head turned toward her, one arm trapped beneath his stomach like a child in restless sleep. Brushing fingers along his cheek, she felt the bristle of a five o'clock shadow. His eyes were closed, and long lashes brushed against his pale and unlined face. His hair was soft and fresh smelling.

Before yesterday, no one at Legacy House had ever met him, and yet his sweet nature and enthusiasm had endeared him to everyone. Everyone except her. Why was that? Even without Alex's gift of sight, she recognized the essential goodness in him, and yet she'd been determined from the start to prove that he was suffering from some form of mental illness. Even before...

"Before what, Rachel?" she whispered to no one in particular.

Before...

Rachel became aware of the malignancy within her just as it asserted itself more forcefully. These violent feelings she'd been having weren't her own, but this entity had played on her own fears and built upon her own darker impulses so subtly that she hadn't noticed it was there until it was too late.

Screaming in outrage, Rachel flung herself back against the desk, as if she could physically force the thing from her body.

It didn't work. Instead, she crawled forward until she was leaning over the mass of curls that smelled faintly of herbs, and lifted the heavy globe and prepared to bring it down again. Morbid curiosity crept unbidden into her head. What would a man's skull look like after it had been smashed open like a cantaloupe?

"Mom, no!"

Kat was standing in the doorway, looking impossibly small and vulnerable. Her eyes were wide and her mouth open, frozen in place by the site of her crazed...mother.

_Mother. I'm her mother._

A protective instinct older than any demon rose up in Rachel and she screamed, "Run, Kat! Get away!"

There was a groan near her and Rachel's fingers tightened around her weapon. Blair was trying unsuccessfully to stand.

"Please Mommy, don't hurt him."

Blair pulled himself to his knees, crawling to the desk and using it as a support. As she watched him struggle to stand, Rachel knew that she could deal a death blow with very little effort. She raised her arm again, no longer recognizing the little girl in the doorway.

The child was becoming frantic, looking from Rachel to Blair and then behind her, as if unsure what she should do. "Mom, stop it! Derek, help! Mom, there's something bad in you. Please don't kill Blair. He's my friend."

_Kat._ There was panic in the child's voice. _Her_ child's voice.

"Oh my god. What's happening?" Rachel dropped the paperweight. It fell heavily to the floor and rolled slowly into the corner.

Rachel's first thought was to get her child as far away as possible. She took a deep breath and tried to speak calmly to Kat, but it was difficult. The malignancy within her was pounding at the edges of her will. "Honey, go get Derek. We need help."

Kat hesitated, looking at Blair, who was now almost standing, but obviously exhausted by the effort.

Part of Rachel wanted to run to Kat and pull her into her arms and tell her everything was all right. But it wasn't. "Hurry, baby, before it comes back."

Kat turned and ran. As soon as she was out of sight, Rachel stood and pressed some buttons on the security panel. The doors slid shut.

Blair was standing now, swaying unsteadily and furrowing his brow in concentration. Rachel watched fascinated as a dark trickle of red made its way slowly down the side of his face.

"Dr. Corrigan? What...why?"

Rachel tore her gaze from the blood and gave a mental shove at her attacker. She tried to remember why she shouldn't hurt this man. He looked like a hippie, but that was no reason to kill him. Besides, the long curls framed a handsome face, and his eyes...intelligent blue eyes that were now clouded with confusion. He looked so vulnerable. How could she have wanted to kill him?

The answer came immediately and with great force.

_Because he's a threat. Because this 'harmless' man is going to destroy everything important to you. No one will be safe from him. Not Derek, or Alex, or Kat. He's too powerful, and if he chose to, he could take everything you hold dear away from you._

Rachel walked over to the desk, smiling and reaching out a hand as if to help the man before her.

As her other hand closed on the letter opener she knew her actions were not her own.


	11. XVIII

**XVIII.**

Derek stood behind Alex, watching her search the database for references to Innuai. He'd allowed Detective Ellison into the nerve center of the Legacy House, certain that he was no threat. The detective already knew enough about them to cause trouble if he wanted to, but he seemed to be an honorable man, and Derek felt comfortable enough with that fact that he was willing to take a calculated risk. Besides, Ellison's expertise might be a help.

"You say this demon originated in Peru. Is it possible that White stumbled across the lost tribe mentioned in the book while he was in there? Is it possible that he brought Innuai back with him?"

"It's definitely possible, Detective." Derek nodded. "I'd like to speak with John in person. He's helped the Legacy in the past, and I'd like to give him the benefit of a doubt. He may only be a catalyst..."

Ellison's brow creased, and he held up his hand, silencing Derek.

Derek watched the detective lean forward as if listening very closely to something. Derek strained to hear anything out of the ordinary, but heard only the steady whir of the computers.

"The little girl, Kat...something's wrong..." The look of concentration changed to one of fear. "Oh my god, Blair..."

Jim pulled his gun as Derek, Philip and Alex followed him. Derek could hear Kat now. Her pleas increased in desperation as she got nearer. Something was wrong with Rachel.

Nick arrived from another part of the house, holding his gun at his side, just as Kat appeared, breathless and frantic.

"Derek, help! Something's wrong with Mom. She's hurting Blair."

Detective Ellison didn't wait to hear more. He shoved past Derek and Kat and headed at a full run for the office.

The sliding glass doors were locked.

"Get these open or I'll shoot them out." The look in Ellison's eyes sent a chill down Derek's spine.

"It's bullet resistant glass, you won't be able to shatter it."

Alex opened a small utility panel next to the door. "She's locked it, but I think I can override it from here. Give me a minute."

Derek had no idea what Detective Ellison was hearing, but the sounds of a struggle were obvious.

Ellison looked down the hall. "We don't have a minute. Is there another way in?"

Nick appeared next to him and looked the doors over. "No. The outside windows are too high. We'd never be able to get to them in time."

Derek was frustrated. He'd had the security measures installed to protect the Legacy's files from outside enemies, now those enemies were using it for their own purposes. He should have known better.

"What's going on in there?"

Ellison's eyes never left the door.

"Innuai is with them."


	12. XIX and XX

**XIX.**

Rachel had attacked Blair almost as soon as she'd closed the doors. Blair had put up a decent fight, but he was starting to lose. Frankly, it was pissing him off. Bad enough that this woman was trying to kill him, even worse that he was probably going to have to use physical force to stop her. It was obvious now that it wasn't Dr. Corrigan who had attacked him, and he was loath to hurt her to stop this entity. It totally sucked, but he was not above it. He'd even had to hit women before while working with Jim. The first time, when he'd hit the Switchman, he'd almost broken his hand. The second time, the drug dealer he'd been chasing had bloodied his nose. Not a good track record. It didn't look like it was about to improve any, either.

All of his attempts to subdue Dr. Corrigan had failed so far. She, however, had managed to put a pretty good slice in his left bicep with a letter opener. He'd pushed her away and backed into a corner, grabbing the nearest chair and holding it in front of him like a lion tamer. Blair had his doubts about the effectiveness of this defensive strategy, but his head was swimming, and he didn't think he was up for an all-out brawl with the woman.

As soon as he reached the corner, Blair's legs failed him and he found himself abruptly sitting on the floor.

That was it. He was done for. Except, maybe not, because Dr. Corrigan had stopped advancing on him and was now standing behind the desk, staring at the doors with a truly creepy look on her face.

"Why can't I just kill him now?"

Rachel tilted her head to one side, as if listening to someone. In a crazy way, it reminded Blair of Jim when he was using his enhanced hearing.

The doctor shook her head furiously. "No!"

Blair knew all about arguing with your inner demons, but this was ridiculous.

Rachel stamped her foot like a spoiled child. "No! We have to hurry. They're outside now."

Jim. Had to be. As if there was ever any doubt that he'd come to the rescue. But he wasn't coming in, and that worried Blair. The Do had punched some buttons on a security panel so maybe the door was locked. That meant he'd either have to hold her off until Jim could get it open, or he'd have to cross the room to unlock it himself. The latter didn't look like a very attractive option at the moment.

As long as Linda Blair here didn't start doing the split pea soup and spinning head thing, he thought he could handle it. Maybe.

"Hey, Jim..." Blair whispered, trying not to draw Rachel's attention. "I'm alive, man."

_Du, Sandburg. You wouldn't be talking to him if you were dead!_

Then again...

"It would be a really good thing if you hurried. If Father Callaghan is out there, you might want to see if he's got his do-it-yourself exorcism kit handy, 'cause he's going to need it. Oh shit..."

Blair had assumed that Rachel was talking to herself, or whatever was possessing her, but now he saw that there was someone else in the room.

One redhead whom he had no interest in whatsoever.

Innuai.

All the nervous humor he usually used to keep himself from freaking out fled him in that instant. No one had ever frightened him as much as she had. Not Lash, not the rednecks in the woods, not even Maya's father when he'd threatened to slice Blair's throat with a machete. Despite his fear, Blair recognized the onset of a panic attack. It was getting harder to breathe, and his body began rocking back and forth of its own accord. The flow of words coming from his mouth seemed unstoppable now, and loud. Too loud. She was going to notice him. And when that happened...

"No! Move it, Jim! Please? I promise...I promise...shit, I promise whatever you want me to promise, just get your ass in here now, OK? I can't handle it if she kisses me. She's poison, man. I'm not gonna make it if she does that again. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Please..."

Blair closed his eyes tightly.

_You are not going to cry. Get a grip, Sandburg._

What would Naomi do? He needed to find his center, and focus on it.

_All these people here, they know what they're talking about. They said I could fight this thing. I can't fall apart now. I can't blow it. How do I fight it? What did Father Callaghan say?_

Then it came back to him. He knew it's name. That gave him power over it.

Blair opened his eyes and unsuccessfully stifled a scream. Any thoughts of confronting the demon faded when he realized he was face to face with her. All he could see were the eyes. Unblinking green eyes, with pupils so black and deep they seemed to lead to the center of the earth. The chair he'd been holding in front of him for protection was gone, but he didn't remember dropping it.

A tribe of Indians Blair had lived with in the Amazon had once taken him to a gaping hole in the earth that they believed was a bottomless pit. Their version of Hell. It was tame compared to this.

Blair was teetering on the edge of it now, and if he went over, he knew even Jim would not be able to stop his fall.

"Help me." Blair's words came out so softly, only a Sentinel could have heard them.

**XX.**

"Get the damned thing open!"

Alex looked up sharply from her work, and saw panic behind the rage in Detective Ellison's eyes. It had suddenly gone quiet a moment ago. His senses must be telling him what was happening on the other side of the door, and it wasn't good.

"I'm trying," she said softly, "Yelling at me won't make it happen any faster."

Jim nodded once and looked away, staring intently at the doors as if willing them to open.

Alex thought she had a good idea of how to circumvent the security system, but the butterflies in the pit of her stomach were making it more difficult. It was hard to concentrate when one of her best friends was on the other side of the door trying to kill someone she'd grown to like very much. This was a test of what she was made of, the reason she'd been chosen as a member of the Legacy. She had to remain calm under pressure and concentrate on doing what had to be done. Alex blanked her mind, and concentrated on the jumble of wires and switches in front of her. Once she was able to give it her full attention, Alex found the right wires and twisted them together. Almost as easy as hot-wiring a car.

"Got it!"

The doors slid open to reveal a chaotic sight. Papers and books were strewn from one end of the office to the other. One of Derek's prized Egyptian artifacts lay shattered on the floor in front of the desk. Chairs were overturned, and one bookshelf had been pulled forward, dumping the contents onto the floor. It took a moment to spot Blair. He was huddled in a corner, knees pulled to his chest and eyes glazed over, rocking back and forth and staring at the empty space in front of him.

Rachel was standing at the desk. Behind her, San Francisco twinkled, the lights of the city reflecting off the inky black of the bay. She looked out of place against that stunning backdrop. Her hair was wild and disheveled, the smile on her face was insane, and she held up a bloodied letter opener like a trophy. Even on her worst days, Rachel had never looked so...evil.

Derek approached her. "Give me the knife, Rachel."

Rachel smiled at Derek. "No. I can't do that. There's more work to be done. The time wasn't right, but it will be, soon. In the meantime, I can rid the world of one more nuisance."

Rachel lifted the dull weapon to her throat, and was beginning to press down when both Alex and Derek hurled themselves over the desk, knocking papers aside as they went. Alex heard a loud crack as the computer monitor hit the floor.

_Derek's not going to be happy about that._

They both tackled Rachel simultaneously, Derek grabbing her wrist and wrenching the letter opener from her hand as they landed heavily on top of her and knocked her to the floor. The scream that issued from Alex's friend was inhuman, almost like a trapped animal, and she began to struggle wildly.

As all three of them lay in a tangled heap on the floor, Alex felt a knee connect with her stomach.

"Oof! Rachel, snap out of it! You need to fight this thing."

Nick and Philip were helping now, but it was still difficult. Rachel was a lot tougher than she looked.

"Let me go, you sons of bitches! "

Together, the four of them managed to pin Rachel firmly to the floor. Alex took a deep breath and sat on her legs to prevent her from kicking anyone else. Rachel was panting now, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, the vision of a panicked animal complete. She stared at Blair intently.

Ellison had ignored Rachel, and instead had gone directly to his partner's side. Blair was obviously in shock. When his eyes met Rachel's they rolled back in his head and he fell forward, his chin resting against his chest. Jim caught him, leaned him back, and checked his pulse, then ran his hands over the sides of his partner's head, frowning once as he did. Ellison pulled out a handkerchief and wound it around Blair's bloodied arm, murmuring reassurances to the insensible man.

Derek's voice drew Alex's attention back to her friend.

"Look at me."

Rachel continued to stare at Blair, occasionally struggling to free herself.

Derek grasped Rachel's chin and forcibly turned her away. "Look at me!"

Alex couldn't see any sign of the Rachel she knew in them.

"Rachel, listen to me. It's Derek. You have to fight this thing. Don't let it win."

Ellison interrupted, fear dancing at the edges of the control in his voice. "We need to get him to a hospital. Now."

Nick released Rachel and got to his feet, "I'll get the chopper started. I can be ready to go in five minutes."

Derek nodded his approval.

Nick stopped on the way out and pulled Kat into a hug, murmuring reassurances to the forgotten child. She hugged him back and wiped away tears with the back of her hand, attempting to smile at whatever he had told her. Nick grinned and threw one last concerned look at Derek before he walked out the door.

Jim put one arm under Blair's shoulders and the other under his knees and lifted him with a grunt. The younger man was conscious again, but looked disoriented. When he tried to hold onto Jim for support, his arm fell limply away.

"Hold on, buddy."

Alex knew before Derek opened his mouth that explanations would do no good. Jim's eyes were cold. It was obvious that no excuse would ever be good enough when it came to someone hurting his friend.

Derek must have seen that, too, but he tried anyway.

"Detective..."

"I'm pretty sure you're going to tell me she was possessed when she did this, but I don't buy it. If my partner dies, she's going to prison for the rest of her life. If he recovers, I'm still going need a damned good reason not to book her for attempted murder." With that promise, Ellison turned and walked out the door.

They all watched the empty doorway for a moment until Rachel renewed her struggles.

"Nooooooo!" Rachel's attempts to free herself became more frantic, as she tried to lunge away from her captors and toward the direction Blair had been taken. A full minute passed before she suddenly stopped struggling and let out an ear-splitting shriek.

The lights flickered and dimmed, throwing the room into murkiness. Rachel tensed and shrieked again. One long, shrill tone that made Alex's ears buzz. It could have shattered glass, and it did. The window behind the desk imploded, covering the three huddled beneath it in tiny shards.

Philip, who had been helping quietly until now, began reciting a prayer. At the same time, Rachel stopped screaming and doubled over in pain as a stream of black fog erupted from her chest, moving very fast toward the window. Alex got out of its way. She did _not_ want that thing near her. Not after what had just happened to Rachel.

It wasn't really a vision, but as Alex watched the entity leave the room, she knew with absolute certainty what its intentions were.

"It's going after them."

Derek reluctantly released Rachel and leapt up, running for the door. "Philip, stay with Kat and Rachel. Alex, come with me."


	13. XXI and XXII

Sorry for the delay in posting new chapters everyone! I had a busy week at work, but I'll try to go through the rest of the chapters and have the whole story up by the end of the weekend.

* * *

**XXI.**

Blair's head was spinning almost pleasantly. The rest of him didn't feel nearly that good. If he had to describe it, he'd say that it was a lot like being run over by a Mardi Gras float while very, very drunk. There was no pain that he could pinpoint. He just felt...flattened.

Memories of the last few minutes were making an appearance in a purely sporadic fashion, but none of them would hold still long enough for him to put them in place. Instinct told him that it was probably just as well. The most dominant emotion he was feeling right now was surprise. Although he wasn't sure why, Blair knew that he wasn't supposed to be alive.

But here he was, still breathing...and being carried. Blair's vision was cutting in and out, making it impossible to focus on _who_ was doing the carrying. If he had to take a stab at it...

_Had to take a stab at it._

Blair started giggling. Yeah, that would have been quite a way to go. It had a kind of poetry to it. He'd spent half his life undergoing therapy of one type or another. It was only fitting that he'd be killed by a crazed psychiatrist. An attractive one at that. Instant Karma for all of the beautiful women he'd ogled since he was old enough to notice the opposite sex.

Where was he? Oh, trying to figure out who was carrying him. Well, that was a no-brainer.

_Good thing, too._

It had to be Jim. Who else could it be? Jim and his amazing super-powers to the rescue. Blair giggled again. His forward momentum stopped abruptly and he found himself sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. His vision cleared enough to note that he was resting on a very old carpet. Possibly early 1800's Indian. It had a rare pattern. There was a fascinating story connected with it if he could just remember it...

"It's OK, Chief. We're going to get you to a hospital. Hang on just a few more minutes." Jim put a hand under Blair's chin and tilted his head up to look at his eyes.

Blair smiled triumphantly. "I told you so."

"Told me what?"

"That it was you."

Blair struggled to focus on Jim's face. He'd found that his partner's square jaw, steely eyes, muscular neck, and generally heroic appearance could be very comforting in a crisis. He was pretty sure he was in the middle of one now.

"That woman totally brained me, man."

"I know. Take it easy."

"Came up right behind me. I didn't even see it coming. Well, I mean, how could I unless I had eyes in the back of my head?"

Blair felt the uncontrollable laughter rising again. He squinted his eyes, trying to figure out whether his laughter was frightening Jim or pissing him off. He would have opted for the latter, but he would've been wrong. Jim's face came into focus for a second, prompting Blair to ask, "I'm hurt pretty bad, huh?"

"You've probably got a slight concussion. You'll be fine."

Memories flooded back, fast and furious, and Blair struggled to get up. "Innuai!"

"Take it easy." Jim pushed Blair back against the wood paneled wall, forcing him to remain sitting.

Everything was back now. "I screwed up. I remembered her name but it was too late. I couldn't open my mouth, and she was just staring at me. And her eyes. Oh, god, Jim. It was like being eaten alive."

Jim put both hands on Blair's shoulders and squeezed tightly enough to cause pain. "Listen to me. She's gone for now, and you're safe. I need you to calm down for me, OK, Chief?"

Blair inhaled deeply then slowly exhaled. Nope, it wasn't going to work this time. Some anxieties could not be fixed with Lamaze techniques. "I can't, man. I'm sorry."

Jim's grip softened. The expression on his face changed to one of concern. "Do you have that...thing...in you? You don't feel like hurting yourself, do you?"

That got his attention. Blair realized with relief and confusion that what he'd been most afraid of hadn't happened. He shook his head, feeling a tear slide from the corner of his eye and trace a warm path down his cheek.

"But something else?"

Clearing his throat, Blair said, "Something in her eyes. If she comes again, don't look in her eyes."

"What was in them?"

"Nothing. A whole lot of nothing. They were so empty. If I had a hundred years I don't think I could begin describe the feeling. It was like being dragged into the pits of Hell. I did _not_ want to go there."

"And you aren't going to. Innuai, on the other hand, is going to take the express train straight back."

Blair grinned. Of course she was. As a team, he and Jim were unbeatable, and no third rate demon was going to get the better of them.

The world was spinning more slowly now, and Blair became more aware of his surroundings. They were in the foyer of the Legacy House, a room with walls covered in rich paneling and filled with heavy antiques. He might have been impressed if his head hadn't been pounding in a way that promised worse to come. He closed his eyes and tried to control the pain.

"Blair?"

"I'm OK. My head hurts."

"We're going to get you to the hospital," Jim repeated, as if just mentioning the fact would make Blair well. "Nick is starting the helicopter."

"Swell." Blair opened his eyes, intending to suggest the ferry. "Um, Jim?"

"Yeah, Chief?"

"Psychotic red-headed banshee at 11 o'clock."

Jim spun around with blinding speed, bringing up his gun simultaneously. Blair was always amazed at the man's agility. He had such total control of his body. It probably wasn't going to help him fight a non-physical entity like this one, but, hey, if it was possible to punch out a ghost, Blair was sure Jim would find a way to do it.

He thought about helping, _wanted_ to help, but his body wasn't ready to cooperate yet.

The woman was staring at Blair again, he was sure of it, although at the moment he was focused on her hem line. No way was he going to look into those eyes again.

"Give him to me," she hissed at Jim.

"Not a chance."

"Then I'll take you." The beautiful woman began to move seductively forward, long arm outstretched.

With an effort, Blair managed to get to his knees. He felt as if he'd just run the hundred yard dash and growled in frustration. Jim was staring at the woman's eyes and it was obvious that he was starting to zone out.

"Jim, man, didn't you listen to a word I said? Come back." Blair stretched out his arm to give Jim an anchoring touch. "Listen to my voice and don't look at her eyes!"

"Leave them be!"

Blair risked a glance away from his partner and saw Derek and Alex standing near the staircase.

When their eyes met, Alex started forward to help, but was stopped cold by a sudden wall of undefined darkness which stretched across the room, separating them. As Derek moved forward to join Alex, the darkness pulsed and knocked them both back. Alex fell against the stairs, but Derek managed to remain standing.

Where had that thing come from? Blair pushed away the absurd notion that evil entities had partners just like cops and sentinels. If he thought about it too much, he'd start giggling again.

Instead, he focused on Jim. He was standing slack jawed now, and his gun had fallen to the carpet. The red-head was close to him, smiling as she pursed her lips and leaned forward. There was no time. If she kissed him...

Memories came back, frightening in their clarity; the horror that had filled him when her lips had touched his, the sense of hopelessness and despair, the urge to give in to the darkness just so that he could have some peace. It was distant now, but even so there was terrible pain in those memories.

Innuai wanted to fill Jim's head with that garbage. No way was Blair going to allow that to happen. He lurched up awkwardly and tackled Jim, bringing him to the ground heavily. As Jim toppled, the red-head shrieked in anger.

Blair turned, his eyes flashing. "Get away from him, you evil bitch!"

Jim gasped and blinked, shaking his head groggily.

Blair lay where he had fallen, both arms still wound around Jim's midsection, trapped by the heavier man's weight. His strength was returning, but not enough to move Jim.

"I told you, big guy, don't look at her eyes. You'll zone out permanently."

"OK, Chief."

Jim's voice sounded weak and vulnerable. Blair had never heard him like that before, and it scared him more than anything else that had happened since he arrived at Angel Island.

That quickly changed.

As Jim struggled to get up, he pulled Blair with him, so that they were sitting with their backs to the wall facing the woman. Except, she wasn't a woman any more. Her hair had lengthened until it had reached the ground and pooled there. It was no longer a bright, cheerful red, but was now the color of blood. Thick and wild and uncombed, it covered her unclothed body. Her skin was not a pure, snowy white, but cracked and wrinkled, mottled with patches of brown and dark green. Her mouth cracked open in what Blair supposed was a smile, revealing a row of amazingly white teeth that appeared to have been chiseled to fine points. The graceful white fingers that had been reaching for Jim a moment ago were now tipped with long, sharp fingernails that were cracked and yellowed with age.

That wasn't the worst thing, though. Even as he had told Jim not to look at her eyes, he had felt his own drawn to them again. Blair tried to fight it, but he felt as if he had no free will. He looked up again into a horrifyingly familiar sight.

Green gave way to black gave way to emptiness.

* * *

**XXII.**

Alex and Derek watched the besieged men helplessly as the demon changed into its true form. Detective Ellison had been entranced by her a moment ago, before Blair had leapt on his friend and knocked him away from the deadly kiss. It had only slowed her down for a moment, and now Blair was staring at the creature with a look of abject horror on his face. He was going to be killed.

Anger gave Alex the burst of courage that she needed, and she rushed forward through the dark cloud that blocked her way. Blair was not going to die. Not if she could help it. She'd had enough. If she had to give up her own life to save him, she was ready to do it.

Distantly, she heard Derek's shouted warning, but it was too late.

It was a strange sensation, as if she had just become embedded in a giant wad of chewing gum. "This must be what the dinosaurs felt like when they were trapped in the tar pits," she thought absently as she struggled to move forward. Each time she lifted one of her legs, it was pulled back down. Her arms were trapped helplessly at her sides. It took a few moments to realize that breathing was also going to be a problem.


	14. XXII and XXIV

**XXIII.**

As Nick ran to the helicopter, he tried to sort out the events of the last hour. He'd found his loyalty to his friends being tested. If he took Blair to the hospital, Ellison was certainly going to have Rachel arrested. He'd seen the look on the detective's face, and while he identified with it, he wondered if he could take part in helping a man who intended to imprison a friend.

The alternative, however, was not an option. His character would not allow him to stand by and do nothing while a man died. Blair was a nice enough guy, and, aside from Kat, probably the most innocent person in this whole sorry mess. Refusing to take him to the hospital was out of the question.

How would they save Rachel, then?

Sure, the Legacy had the money to hire an expensive attorney for her, but even a fancy lawyer couldn't guarantee she'd get no jail time, especially with a respected detective testifying against her.

He was fairly certain that a jury was not going to acquit Rachel because she'd been possessed by a demon when she'd hit Blair over the head. It sounded lame to him and he _knew_ it was the truth. A plea of temporary insanity was not going to do her career any good, either. Even Sloan probably wouldn't be able to pull enough strings to get Rachel out of this.

Right now the important thing was to get Blair to a hospital and pray that he didn't suffer any permanent damage from his injuries. He was Rachel's only real hope. If Blair believed what he had seen, he might be able to convince Ellison not to press charges.

_If_ he remembered any of it.

And then there was Kat. Poor kid had been through enough in her life without having to watch her mother go nuts and try to kill a man. He knew she'd survive this, though. In many ways, she was more stable than her mother. While Rachel sometimes still rejected the supernatural and only faced it when forced to, Kat embraced the unknown, and understood it. She knew it wasn't her mother attacking Blair, but the image was still bound to be painful.

Nick knew something was wrong before he reached the helicopter. The door was open and being knocked back and forth by the gusting wind. He saw the damage to the control panel before he even peered inside. It looked as though someone had taken a sledge hammer to it. He would have gone down to the docks to check on the boats, if he hadn't been fairly certain that he'd find the same thing there.

Thing was, this damage seemed to have been done by a human. Either an intruder was on the island, or whatever had possessed Rachel had taken someone else earlier. Nick turned and ran back to the house, expecting the worst.

Not the worst, but pretty close.

The scene he came upon as he flung open the front door made his stomach lurch. Blair and the detective were both backed up against the wall. Ellison had one hand on the carpet, struggling to get up, while the younger man was staring mesmerized at a horrific creature, obviously fighting for his life. Beyond them he could see Alex, encased in thick black fog, slowly being pulled to the floor. Derek was mumbling an incantation in Latin, but it seemed to be having no effect.

The demon had its eyes locked on Blair's and Nick knew from long experience that the first thing he had to do was break that gaze. He ran to the two men, carefully not looking at the demon.

"Snap out of it, Sandburg!"

Before he could reach them, the demon's gaze shifted and she let out an ear-splitting shriek. Nick saw Blair blink slowly and start to shake, then noticed with a sharp stab of fear that the demon was looking at him now.

There was a pop and sparks as all of the electricity in the house went off.

Nick didn't even see her coming, but he felt it.

It reminded him of the time when he was a kid and had come home with a mild case of frostbite on his fingers. As his hands had warmed up in a tub of water, they'd begun to tingle painfully, as if someone were poking him with pins.

That was what Nick felt as he was lifted and hurled against the front door, only magnified a hundred times and covering his entire body. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was the demon barreling towards Derek.

* * *

**XXIV.**

It wanted in.

As Alex struggled to breath, she could feel it outside, pushing at her, looking for entry. It was dark and ugly and had a stench of decay that reminded her of a body in a moldering grave. She couldn't move, couldn't hear, couldn't see, but she fought it. If this thing got in, it would drive her insane, just like it had already tried to do to Rachel and Blair.

But it wasn't in yet, and Alex was damned if she was going to let it in.

The immobility and sensory deprivation frightened her, but not more than the idea that her friends were in danger, and that if she let this thing in, she might do them harm. If this thing was capable of causing Rachel to try to commit murder, what would it make her do?

_No!_

The thing was prodding at her, looking for some weak spot in her where it could sneak in.

_It's not going to happen, so give it up!_

Small bright dots had begun to form in front of her eyes, illuminating nothing but the sharp pain in her head. How long had it been since she'd breathed? If it couldn't get in, it was going to kill her. It had found her weakness, then. Alex didn't want to die. Not this way.

Oh, god, where was Derek? Why wasn't he helping her? She wanted to struggle, to scream, to do anything to fight this thing, but it was like being encased in cement. There was no air in her lungs, and she needed to take a breath.

_Just a little one. Please._

_Help me, Derek!_

The evil was everywhere now, stabbing at her, trying to get in, and she hated being helpless and she wanted to move and where was Derek? Where was Nick? Where were her friends? They were supposed to help her.

The spots in front of her eyes began to dim, and with it, her panic. It was too late. She was dying, but the pain was gone, and she could no longer sense the evil around her.

With something like relief, Alex embraced the darkness.


	15. XXV

**XXV.**

Philip watched Rachel as she leaned against the desk with her eyes tightly closed. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line of pain, and her face was devoid of color.

"How badly did I hurt him?"

Rachel's voice trembled, as if she feared the answer. Reaching over, Philip grabbed her hand and tried to reassure her.

"He'll be fine. Nick is taking him to the hospital."

"I remember everything. I wish I didn't." Tears slid from beneath her lids, tracing a path down her cheek, leaving a path through her makeup.

Kat flung her arms around her mother's neck and held on tightly. "Don't cry, Mom. Everything will be OK."

Rachel hugged her daughter tightly, and looked at Philip imploringly, as if he would be able to fix everything.

Oh, how he wished he could.

The sight of Kat, patting her mother on the back in imitation of a mother's comfort, broke Philip's heart.

He couldn't tell them that everything was going to be just fine. It never was.

And Philip knew, with a certainty that came from immeasurable pain and too much experience, that something was terribly wrong.

Rachel?s face reflected his fear, and she squeezed his hand.

"Philip?"

"We have to go help the others."

Philip stood and pulled Rachel to her feet, just as the lights went out. No flicker, no flash of thunder to explain it. Just sudden, impenetrable darkness and a silence that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

Fumbling nervously through the drawers of Derek's desk, he searched for the flashlight he knew was there. When he'd found it, he reached for Rachel's hand. Philip didn't try to persuade Kat to stay where it was safe. If they failed, she wouldn't be safe anywhere on the island.

It seemed to take hours to travel the short distance between the office and the foyer. Each step closer was more difficult to make. It was too quiet. No helicopter, no voices, not any of the noises associated with a house of this age. Their footsteps sounded far away. Even Philip's mind felt dulled. Whatever was here was very powerful.

The emergency lights kicked in, lending a faint, surreal glow to the hallway. Philip strained to see what lay in the shadows, but the light was swallowed up, leaving only a menacing darkness ahead.

As Philip emerged into the foyer, his breath caught.

"Oh my dear god, no." Rachel turned and blocked Kat's view, pulling her daughter's face against her to keep her from taking in the scene before them.

Nick was slumped at an awkward angle against the large oak door, looking like a discarded rag doll. Derek was lying near the stairs, and Alex... Philip tried desperately not to cry out. Alex was lying on her back a few feet from Derek, arms flung out at her sides, hair flung wildly across her face, staring up at the ceiling with sightless eyes. It was impossible to tell if any of them were alive.

Their two guests definitely were. For the moment. Detective Ellison was standing unsteadily in the middle of the room facing off two demons. Blair was behind him, leaning on him and gripping tightly to the back of his jacket in an effort to remain on his feet. He was talking softly to his friend. Philip couldn't make out what he was saying, but there was something oddly comforting and stable in the tone of his voice.

Whatever he was saying, it was having an effect. The demons were keeping their distance, but they weren't going to be able to fight them off for long.

Philip glanced at Rachel, who seemed on the verge of a breakdown. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Alex, and she was shaking so badly that she might have been going into shock. He needed to distract her from her fear. Reaching out and squeezing her arm, he said, "Take care of Derek and Alex."

The demons stood between Rachel and Nick. Help for him would have to wait. Philip whispered a silent prayer for his friend.

"Philip, no." Rachel put a hand on his arm. "It's too dangerous."

Philip saw his own fear reflected in Rachel's eyes. Why didn't it ever get any easier?

"I have to."

As tempting as it would be to rescue his friends and leave these two strangers to deal with their own fate, his conscience would not allow it. Derek wouldn't allow it, either. He would say that this was the Legacy's responsibility, whether or not the house had been manipulated into luring these men here. Derek would want Philip to help them first, even at the cost of his own life or the lives of the others.

Rachel's grip on his arm tightened. Philip put his hand over hers, and gently pried her fingers loose.

"I have to."

Philip reached up and enclosed his cross in a trembling hand. It had been a source of comfort many times in the past, but it was also a powerful weapon. He had faith that it would give him strength now, when he needed it most.

Summoning all of his courage, Philip spoke loudly and clearly.

"Innuai!"

The monster that had disguised itself as a beautiful woman turned swiftly and faced him. Her eyes were filled with darkness, but Philip used his faith to imagine them filled with light.

"You are not welcome here."

Innuai hissed but did not come closer. "This is none of your business, priest. Leave me to my business and attend to your friends. They need your help."

"These men are under my protection. If you want them you'll have to go through me."

Innuai's rotting lips curled up, revealing pointed teeth. "As you wish, little man."

Before she could advance, there was a loud roar behind her. To Philip's ears it sounded like the snarl of a large wild cat. He saw a flash of shiny black fur flying through the air and disappearing into the other dark entity. There was a sudden gust of wind originating from the creature that almost knocked Philip off of his feet, then it became a whirling column of smoke that sank rapidly through the floor.

Innuai's companion had just made a fast exit.

The panther, if that was what it had been, disappeared into the shadows behind Ellison and his partner. Neither of the men seemed to have seen it. Ellison looked pale and drained, but Blair was getting his strength back. He had a reserved but triumphant smile on his face, and he was standing without support now. The smile faded as he turned and caught Philip's eye.

It wasn't over yet.

It didn't seem possible that Innuai could become more monstrous than she already was, but she did. She had grown by a foot at least, and now even the whites of her eyes had been swallowed by the blackness. Her teeth lengthened, dripping with a dark, thick substance that looked like blood. The temperature of the room had dropped by 30 degrees. Philip could see the breath coming from her nostrils in quick gusts, reminding him ridiculously of a charging bull in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Blair had been right, after all; fighting the forces of darkness _did_ have its absurd moments.

"I have never failed before, and I don't plan to fail now, priest. I only want one of them. I'll let you decide which."

"I won't make that choice."

"You already have. The Sentinel will die."

It hadn't been conscious. Philip had spent some time with Blair since he'd arrived, grown to like him, even, while Ellison had remained aloof and inaccessible. Not a man who opened himself up to strangers.

It didn't mattered who Innuai decided to kill, though. The two men functioned together. Their power would be destroyed regardless of who died.

Innuai turned to face Ellison, who was swaying back and forth as if he were going to collapse at any moment. Evidently she had been close to succeeding before she'd been interrupted by Philip.

Blair stepped in front of his partner, his eyes flashing with an anger Philip wouldn't have thought possible for the young man to possess. "No! Don't you dare touch him. Go back to Peru, Innuai. Go back to the jungle you've been lurking in all these years, because you're done here!"

At the mention of her name, the demon stopped and hissed angrily again. What had not worked for Philip was working for Blair. Philip began his litany again, while Blair stood defiantly between his friend and oblivion.

It was Ellison's turn to use Blair for support. He put a hand on the younger man's shoulder to steady himself.

"You aren't taking either of us, Innuai. We're a team. Where Blair goes, I go."

"How sweet. Do you escort him to the bathroom as well?" The sneering quality in Innuai's voice seemed to have lost some of it's strength.

Ellison didn't dignify it with an answer. Instead, he fixed his steely blue eyes on her empty black ones, no longer frightened by the darkness lurking there.

"Go to Hell, Innuai." Blair whispered, so softly that Philip almost didn't hear it.

That was all it took. With a yell that shook the building to its foundations, she flew at them, only to dissipate as she came within an inch of the unflinching men.

And then it was quiet. Not in the deadened way it had been before, but in a peaceful way. Philip could hear the sound of heavy breathing, and realized it was his own. Stirring behind him drew his attention and he turned to see Derek getting groggily to his feet. Kat was clinging to her mother's arm as Rachel attended to Alex, who was still unconscious. She looked up at Philip and nodded to him. Alex would be all right.

Nick was another story. It didn't look as though he had moved an inch. Philip crossed the room and knelt down next to his friend, easing him gently to the floor. He was still breathing, that was a good sign. Pulse strong and steady. There was a lump at the back of his head where he'd hit the door, but it wasn't large.

"Nick? Nick, can you hear me?"

Philip slapped his face gently and was rewarded with a groan.

"That's it. Wake up."

Nick blinked several times before he opened his eyes fully and frowned. "Oh, man." He drew in a deep breath. "My head hurts."

Philip smiled. "You'll be OK."

Nick's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Let me guess. The demons were playing soccer and I was being used as the ball again. Right?"

"Yeah, but our side won, and you play great interference."

"Well, that's OK, then."

Nick turned and saw Derek sitting on the steps with his head in his hands and Rachel kneeling next to Alex.

"How are they?"

"Everyone will be fine. You need to relax."

"What about them?" Nick nodded in the direction of Blair and Ellison. Blair was standing in front of the larger man with a hand on his chest, talking to him urgently. Ellison leaned forward as if he were about to confide a secret to Blair, but instead kept going, toppling both men to the floor.

* * *


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Quiet. Unusual for the loft. Must be early yet. No traffic, bed is soft and warm. Maybe I can get some more shut-eye before work._

Jim turned onto his right side and felt warm sunshine on his face. That was wrong. He rolled over to his other side and felt the sun at his back. Definitely wrong. Either the windows in his room had moved or he was sleeping on his bed upside down.

Or he wasn't at home.

"Rip Van Winkle awakes."

Jim opened his eyes and saw Blair sitting in a chair next to the bed. It was an unfamiliar room, filled with antiques. The bed he was lying on was a massive antique four-poster. Definitely not a hospital.

"Welcome back, man."

Blair was smiling, but there were dark shadows under his eyes and signs of stress on his face.

"Where are we?" Jim remembered as soon as the question was out of his mouth.

"San Francisco. We're on Angel Island at the Legacy House, remember?"

"Yeah, vividly."

A hideous woman with long bony fingers reached out to him and Jim blinked quickly to banish the memory.

Jim appraised Blair again. "You look like hell. Have you slept?"

"Not yet. I wanted to make sure you got some rest without anything bothering you."

"Guarding me?" Jim sat up and watched with amusement as Blair hopped up and stuck a pillow behind his back. "I thought being a Sentinel was my job."

"That's OK, man. I figured this was the least I could do, since you're going to be checking under my bed and looking in my closet every night before I go to bed for the next couple of years."

_Yours and mine both, Chief._

"How long have I been out?"

"Fifteen hours. It's Sunday afternoon. You had a _total_ zone out. I'm not sure what you were focusing on, but even I couldn't bring you out of it. I thought I was getting through to you when you keeled over. I was completely freaked, until I realized you were asleep."

Jim remembered it vaguely. Focusing on something other than his five senses. He'd seen the cat, he was certain of that. Somehow he'd been a part of it when it had chased away the dark entity. It was still there, lurking, when Innuai had gone, but it had not destroyed her. Blair and Jim had done that together. He didn't know how, but Blair was the focus of the power that had destroyed her. Some day they'd have to have a long talk about it. Away from this place, somewhere safe, like the loft.

Blair sat down on the edge of the bed. "So is that some kind of Ranger thing? The ability to doze off in the middle of a crisis like that?"

"Very funny. How are you? They should have taken you to a hospital."

"I wouldn't let them. Besides, the helicopter and the boats were trashed--it's a long story, I'll tell you about it later. Anyway, it was only a concussion, and I've been staying awake. Everyone has been keeping an eye on me."

"_Only_ a concussion." Jim shook his head in disbelief. "How is everyone else?"

"A lot of bumps and bruises, but for the most part they're recovered. I think they have a higher tolerance for this kind of thing than we do."

"I imagine."

Neither of them spoke for a while, caught up in memories of the last few days.

Finally, Blair said softly, "Thanks, Jim. I owe you."

"For what?"

"For being here. I wouldn't have been able to fight it alone."

"That works both ways. You saved my butt, too."

Blair smiled a little. "Guess I did."

"We make a great team, Sandburg. You forgot that."

Blair looked at the tree outside the window. The leaves were almost glowing in the bright sunshine. "Not for long," he said quietly.

"You're the only partner I need. Don't ever doubt it again. Understood?"

Blair's smile came into full bloom. The one that meant everything was right with the world again. "Understood."

Jim stomach rumbled loudly, and Blair laughed.

"Yeah, I'm starving, too. Let's go downstairs and see what these guys have in their fridge."

Pulling the covers back, Jim realized he was clad in only his boxers. Jim eyed Blair.

Blair waved his hands with a look of mock disgust on his face. "Wasn't me, man. I think it was the Doc."

Jim felt himself grow cold for a moment and hoped Sandburg hadn't noticed. That woman had tried to kill Blair, and he wasn't ready to forgive her yet, even knowing that she probably wasn't responsible for it.

"Not so fast, fellas." Alex pushed the door open, carrying a large tray loaded with sandwiches and coffee.

"Breakfast in bed?"

Blair hopped up and helped Alex with the tray, trading grins with her.

Jim kept his expression studiously neutral. _Much better than a table leg._

"Yeah. And don't think we do this for all of our guests, either."

Alex turned away for a moment to move a small table over for Blair to use, and muttered under her breath, "Only the cute ones."

Jim laughed out loud, and Alex turned looking embarrassed. "You heard that. I forgot."

"That's OK, he gets that all the time."

Alex raised an eyebrow and grinned. "I was talking about both of you."

Blair hadn't heard, and now he eyed the two suspiciously. "What did she say?"

"For me to know, Sandburg."

Two hours later, Alex stood outside, waiting for Jim to bring the bags out. Blair had refused to take a nap, knowing that if he did, he'd be out for a while and they'd miss their flight back to Cascade. She'd watched with amusement as he and Jim had argued about it, until Blair finally wore Jim down and promised to sleep on the plane.

Rachel had taken Kat home with barely a word to the two men. She was still reeling from the possession, and she'd wanted some time alone with Kat so that they could heal.

Blair came out and sat down on the steps. He looked exhausted. She walked over and took a seat next to him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Not too bad. Nothing a week's worth of sleep won't cure." He ran a hand through his hair, and Alex was again startled at the depth in his eyes.

"I'm glad. Did you say good-bye to Philip?"

"Yeah. I'm going to call him in a week or so, though. I don't think he believed me when I told him I was OK."

"He's had some bad experiences."

"I gathered. But with friends like you, I'm sure he'll be fine."

Alex put her hand on the back of his, and squeezed. "Thanks."

Blair shrugged. "It's the truth. Everyone here seems really tight. It's nice to have people to depend on like that."

Blair said it in a warm tone of voice that said he knew exactly what it felt like to have someone to depend on. He fixed concerned blue eyes on her and she suddenly felt embarrassed.

"What about you? How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." _For the moment._

Jim appeared in the doorway with two duffel bags and scowled at Blair. "Hey, Romeo, you've got ten minutes and then we're out of here." Before he disappeared in the direction of the Ferry, he gave Alex a wry grin and a wink.

Blair rolled his eyes at his friend in a way that was completely...adorable. Alex couldn't believe she'd thought that. Something in this guy brought out the teenager in her.

_Now or never, Alex._

"I'm going to be in Seattle next month, and I thought maybe we could go out to dinner, see a movie."

Blair brightened. "That would be fantastic! Maybe we could check out some museums, too. There's going to be a great exhibit at the Museum of Natural History."

"I'll call you, then."

They both stood and looked in the direction of the ferry. The sun was shining off Blair's brown curls again. It was hard to believe it had been only a few short days since she'd met Blair. He was as beautiful to her now as he had been then, except now he looked a little shell-shocked. That would soon pass, she hoped.

Things hadn't worked out the way they were supposed to. Philip was even more determined to stay away from the Legacy now, Rachel had endured another possession, and Blair was going home empty-handed, without any new information to help his friend. All he would be bringing away from this trip was the knowledge that supernatural forces were working to destroy him and his partner. It hadn't been a good weekend for anyone.

As for herself, well, Alex had already had a nightmare last night. She was trapped and hadn't been able to breathe. That thing had never gotten into her, so she could only imagine what Blair's nightmares would be like.

"I'm sorry."

Blair fixed her with blue eyes the color of the ocean. "For what?"

"Everything. What happened here."

With a shake of his head, he said, "None of that was your fault. I probably should have warned you before I came here. I'm a magnet for trouble. Ask Jim."

"Are you really going to be OK?"

Blair smiled in a way that made Alex's heart melt. "Sure." He bounced on his toes a little. "We Sandburgs are made out of rubber."

He opened his mouth to say something else, but Alex moved in. Life was too short. If this weekend had proved anything, it was that. Cupping his face in her hands, she kissed him gently on the lips. As she moved away, she saw that Blair was wearing a silly grin to match her own.

"I've wanted to do that since the day I met you."

"Me too," he said happily, and moved to kiss her back.

Sadly, it was not to be. Jim Ellison appeared out of nowhere and put a heavy hand on Blair?s shoulder.

"Break it up, Sandburg. We're going to miss the plane."

They settled on a hug instead. Derek came out and walked with them to the ferry, getting a promise from Jim to pass along any information having to do with Professor White when he got back to Cascade.

And then they were gone.

Alex stood at the pier, long after Derek and Nick had gone inside, watching the ferry retreat across the bay. Maybe things hadn't ended so badly. As she watched the two men standing by a railing, she saw Blair gesturing with his hands and describing something to his partner. She saw Jim Ellison lean back, laughing, and throw a friendly arm around his shoulder.

They'd be all right.

Alex was never more certain of anything in her life.

**~~~The End?~~~**

Not really. I'm currently (9/09) working on a sequel so that the loose ends with Professor White will be tied up.


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